Today my church choir started singing in church again. Due to the fact that I walk to church and I hate to be late, I am always there rather early. This morning as I sat in a nearly empty church I picked up my notebook and a pen and I came up with this.
Gerry is practicing for the service. He barely looks at his hands and never at his feet - the music he plays is magical. The organ and the cross compete to be the tallest items in the sanctuary, anchoring it at each end. The sunlight falling on the cross matches the music of the organ. With no one here to disturb the air, it's an ethereal place.
People will be here eventually, filling up the columns of pews. Their voices a multitude of whispers, discussing everything from this week's football game to where they're eating after church. People always throw the symmetry off - one side holding more than the other - but everyone has "their" pew and change does not come easily. Beautiful windows of stained glass flank the pews, telling stories and providing distraction for restless children. The colors mingle, moving from warm to cool, telling wonderful stories for generations.
The altar is simply clad - only two candles, a chalice, and the missal - with touches of green to denote the season. The communion robe waits patiently on the rail for the part it will play toward the end of the service. There are a couple of papers on the pulpit to prompt the priest through her sermon. There are sunflowers behind the altar today in honor of someone - it'll say who in the bulletin.
The musical stillness is broken as the choir begins to fill in the balcony. People settle in, greeting one another and stacking hymnals. Many clicks sound as they open their binders and prepare the music of the day. The early morning quiet is gone, and now the best part of the day begins.
-Kat
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