On finding the True Church
On Thursdays I lead a prayer service at Res House in SRQ. It’s my favourite activity each week.
The attendance varies between eight and fourteen people. It’s the only Church I know where every week we have more men than women to pray.
I keep it simple. A bit of Scripture; lighting candles for prayer requests; the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary and a blessing.
We always end with a song.
K. was there yesterday. He’d been arguing with his girlfriend before the service. He carried the argument into the Chapel. I reminded everyone that this was a “safe place”, and that disputes should be left at the door.
During the “lighting of the candle” time, K. began to “testify” at length. ’Twas almost as if he was relating his inner struggle between a good impulse and a bad impulse.
I bided my time and let him finish. I thanked him for his words and we all said the Lord’s Prayer.
S. told me about her upcoming surgery. Then she had to rush out of the Chapel to the bathroom. I opined “sometimes the bladder is more urgent than the heart”. Her boyfriend, another “K” responded “and that’s what her surgery is all about”. I hope that I’ll remember to pray for her on Monday - the day of her surgery.
A. was not there. I have been worried about him as we have not seen him since Monday.
He is charming beyond all belief, and he latched on to me from the get go. That made me nervous.
I ask B. about A. They are pals. B. said that he too was worried. B. and I were worried that A. might be in jail.
A. called me this afternoon. He is in a Psych. Unit. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he is safe! I will visit him on Saturday (March 1st).
S. is as Irish as they come. He is from the Republic of Ireland, and Catholic to the bone.
He is J’s protector on the streets. She is from Northern Ireland and a Protestant. (Go figure!)
Last week S. spoke to me. He said “I know that you are Protestant and I am Catholic, and I am not supposed to do this, but I need your blessing”.
Before I could agree to his request he dropped to his knees. I laid my hands on him, and blessed him in the name of the Sacred Three. He got to his feet, kissed me on the cheek, and said “I love you Pastor Michael”.
This is Church! This is where I meet Jesus.
The attendance varies between eight and fourteen people. It’s the only Church I know where every week we have more men than women to pray.
I keep it simple. A bit of Scripture; lighting candles for prayer requests; the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary and a blessing.
We always end with a song.
K. was there yesterday. He’d been arguing with his girlfriend before the service. He carried the argument into the Chapel. I reminded everyone that this was a “safe place”, and that disputes should be left at the door.
During the “lighting of the candle” time, K. began to “testify” at length. ’Twas almost as if he was relating his inner struggle between a good impulse and a bad impulse.
I bided my time and let him finish. I thanked him for his words and we all said the Lord’s Prayer.
S. told me about her upcoming surgery. Then she had to rush out of the Chapel to the bathroom. I opined “sometimes the bladder is more urgent than the heart”. Her boyfriend, another “K” responded “and that’s what her surgery is all about”. I hope that I’ll remember to pray for her on Monday - the day of her surgery.
A. was not there. I have been worried about him as we have not seen him since Monday.
He is charming beyond all belief, and he latched on to me from the get go. That made me nervous.
I ask B. about A. They are pals. B. said that he too was worried. B. and I were worried that A. might be in jail.
A. called me this afternoon. He is in a Psych. Unit. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he is safe! I will visit him on Saturday (March 1st).
S. is as Irish as they come. He is from the Republic of Ireland, and Catholic to the bone.
He is J’s protector on the streets. She is from Northern Ireland and a Protestant. (Go figure!)
Last week S. spoke to me. He said “I know that you are Protestant and I am Catholic, and I am not supposed to do this, but I need your blessing”.
Before I could agree to his request he dropped to his knees. I laid my hands on him, and blessed him in the name of the Sacred Three. He got to his feet, kissed me on the cheek, and said “I love you Pastor Michael”.
This is Church! This is where I meet Jesus.
Absolutely, that is church! Church is often found not where we expect it to be, I think.
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