How Do You Spend Your Sunday Morning?

I am not without thought, stronger than musing and much stronger than being quiet, muted and shedding a smile, which is better than shedding a tear. Although when the smile becomes a smirk, watch out. That’s self-judgment to be alert.

What is this? It’s about how we spend our Sunday morning. Now that I am not serving a church as their pastor, the focus shifts. I admit that. Of course, the focus is now upon the needs of both Diane and Jason. Yesterday, a Sunday, I went to worship, my pastor touched my shoulder, “Jason’s in my prayers.” That was all I needed, although again in the sermon I learned something. Love that when I learn, as if I ever doubted, that I have more to learn.

While I worshipped another “holy moment” happened. Jason’s sons, our grandsons, visited him. They hadn’t seen their father for over two months. At the age of 10 [twins Jackson and Aiden] and 6 [Noah] it was a worshipful moment, which means not choirs and organ music, but the precious smile of God that blessed them. Which reminded me, folks, prayers for Diane and Jason, but also for the three kiddoes.

Into all that as I walked my three four-legged kiddoes, I noticed how quiet the streets were, still morning. Still brisk in temperature, but a vacancy of folks that wasn’t alarming. I didn’t slam my judgement with why they weren’t in church. Not for a breath.

I know in my worship space there are less people, the choir seems to have become smaller, and someone remarked, “Church doesn’t bring people in any more.”

I used to fuss about that, I really did. I used to take that personally, they weren’t coming because my sermons weren’t relevant or helpful, except in a few cases, a cure for insomnia. That was wrong as I look at it now. Churches having fewer members isn’t the real concern. Tom Ehrich dealt with it, much better than I, so I share. For ALL of us, whether or not Sunday morning worship is as special as…you fill in the blanks.

To be direct, maybe even blunt, Sunday morning worship has a centering for many of us. I felt much better in my soul for worshipping yesterday. That’s not self-congratulations, that’s gratitude to God that in worship my soul is fed. It’s a spiritual thing. But, honestly, and no less, my soul is fed when I make sure my faith has arms and legs and a reaching-out to others countenance.

I’ll let Ehrich take it from here. Tom, you feed my soul, so this Monday will not be without purpose and value. Thank you:

“I think Jesus would say, Faith is never about Sunday-activity choices. Faith is about trusting in God, loving God, serving God, and serving humanity. Keeping a religious institution alive means little. Are the hungry being fed, the lonely wrapped in community, the outcast brought into the circle, the powerful and corrupt hearing God’s truth, the broken hearing hope?

Those are the measures. Not the ways religious spaces get used, but the ways God’s people serve and

transform a sinful and broken world.”


About Mark H Miller

Diane and I live in Leander, Texas. This past June 17, 2015 I celebrated the 49th anniversary of my ordination. We returned to Texas after three years in Washington, during which I served as interim minister in Bellevue/Eastgate and Mercer Island. Am planning to begin a 5th novel that will have my protagonist, Tricia Gleason, serve a year in licensed ministry in Snoqualmie, Washington. The novel, "The Lemon Drop Didn't Melt," will find Tricia wrestling with ministry challenges. None of which more daunting than someone wanting her breathing to stop. All the published novels are available on Amazon and Amazon Kindle under Mark Henry Miller. A primary goal in our return to Texas is to make sure grandchildren get lots of attention--here and in Chicago and Washington, D.C. Traveling is definitely an activity that will not slow down. With that, of course, fishing will happen. To that the t-shirt is apt, "I fish; therefore I am." In addition to novels, the book of Blogs, "Voice Of My Heart," is also available on Amazon.
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