I recently attended a community Lenten service at Unionville Moravian church. As we wait for the service to start, I look around with warmth at the community I have been apart of for nearly three years. I think about how important that sense of community has become to me.
We sit in rows, mostly with our own churches. Some chat happily with a friend behind them. Normally, the walls of another church separate them. Others pray, or like me, look around absorbing the common spirit of community. Even before we say holy words in unison – even in the silence – we are one.
Elderly resting in pews of social activity, children defying coral, men and women worn from work – by the generation we come, enjoying and strengthening each other. Across the street and a few blocks down another group of people, enjoy community around the bingo table. In still another place, the sportsmen’s club feels the spirit of community.
We live in small towns, but it seems we are all searching for a place in our community. We are in a time when the hard work of a hard economy splits our communities and commuters find their living far from home. When downtowns dwindle and our sense of community could be splintered by a sense of depression and the hardships of making a living, the church fills up back to front with people from every congregation to enjoy each other and remember what living is really about – in community.
I share a smile and a wave with the pastor of another church across the isle from me. What we share is more, though, than a profession, a smile or a wave. We share the warmth of friendship, eyes of care knowing we are parts of the same whole. So even with out words the bond is sure. The spirit of community binds us.
Our somber reflection is broken as Father John disappears into his seat behind the pulpit saying, “I’ll be back here.”
As a community, we share a laugh. Together.
