It
is the place where my wife learned about God and Jesus and the
disciples and which line to get in at coffee hour.
It is where she rolled her eyes with friends that would last her lifetime, at zealous Sunday School teachers, who in recent years she has grown to appreciate.
It is where my sister in law was married by a minister who was willing to go the distance to make a marriage between two faiths as natural as a marshmallow at a campfire.
It is where I climbed into the pulpit using a borrowed key and a false premise, and proposed to my wife.
It is where she said, “yes” with kisses that have burned their love into my soul for lo these past 30 years.
It is where I married my wife with over 200 friends and family gathered around as a little flower girl slowly pulled up her frilly socks.
It is where my ears glowed red as I discovered (when I least expected it) that I could become a minister.
It is where we taught a hot little curriculum called: Let’s Practice Christian Love...and giggled about the title.
It is where I was nurtured through seminary by deacons who didn’t understand my need to wear white sneakers.
It is where I became an ordained minister on a day that brought a blizzard, sleet, and blazing sunshine.
It is the 6th pew from the front, by the windows, stage left, behind the pole, where my in-laws have worshiped for 49 years...including those years when Mom had to bribe the kids with candy so they wouldn't crawl under the 5th, 4th, and 3rd pews.
It is church suppers, and deacons meetings and pledge drives and fellowship hours and arguments and making up and laughing at it all.
It is the last stop before breakfast at The Plaza restaurant, with it’s eggs over easy, black coffee and burnt toast.
It is where my heart felt heavy and my tears fell to the ground as I looked on its charred remains.
It is where young and old and friends and strangers gathered to hold each other in warm embrace, and cry, and say, "it will be ok".
It is...burnt to the ground...but somehow, still alive.
It is in that “somehow” that faith wins the day after the darkest night.
It is in that “somehow” that God’s love will go on amidst and in spite of the charred remains.
It is in that “somehow” that we will come home, to the place we call our “home church.” today, and in the days to come.
It is burnt to the ground...but somehow, still alive.
It is.
