Quite regularly, I find myself in conversations and hear the sentiment of a lack of time expressed. And usually, of course, this sentiment correlates to stress experienced and a resulting experience of some sort of dis-integration. The lack of time experienced causes the individual to feel as though they are stretched amongst competing responsibilities, desires, priorities, and almost literally that their lives are coming apart.

A long time ago, I was told that it is absolutely true that everyone has the same amount of time, and that what we make of that time has plenty to do with the quality of the life we experience. When I first heard this, I was a young parent juggling a young career as a pastor along with graduate school, and of course, subsisting on too little sleep and too much coffee. I scoffed at this apparent wisdom shared with me and tucked it away in the deep recesses of my mind as miscellaneous stuff to one day come back to and then learn to be wise. Maybe.

It wasn’t until I spent a few years sitting under the tutelage of the well-worn and preserved pattern of worship of the Church, or the primitive faith of the ancient Church, that this thought climbed itself from a dark recess of my mind to be finally received and understood.

A specific portion of our liturgy during Lent serves as a sturdy example. After hearing the priest recite Jesus' command to “Do this in remembrance of me,” we respond and say,

We remember his death.

We proclaim his resurrection.

We await his coming in glory.

And there it is, the confession of the revelation of time fulfilled.

This is, perhaps, the singular importance of the liturgy — to help us recall the full reality of Truth and, as a result, to literally be re-membered by this reality.

As our Lenten journey prepares to turn toward Easter light, this final jaunt invites us to see the path established for us by Christ. This Sunday morning, we will gather with palms in hand, crying “Hosanna to the King!” And we will also cry out with the crowd, “Crucify him!” as we rehearse the passion narrative.

Our hearts stretched in both ways is why the Church gathers again and again: not simply to think about Christ, but to be drawn into His life — until His life becomes our own.

If you were able to join us for our first Sunday of worship across four services, we hope you felt welcomed, invited, and at peace. We invite you to take a few minutes to read this follow-up note from our Connections & Communications Director, Angelia Thames, about the day and some of our needs HERE.