BY RAY TRUBLOOD

SIT AMONG YOU EACH SABBATH AS WE worship together, and marvel at how different the experience is from years past. And I look forward to ever more meaningful worship with you as we grow in grace.

Retrospection
Middle-aged now, I can't recall a time when church was not in my weekly ritual. Born and raised an Adventist, I never really had the strength or the reasons to stop going. More out of habit than conviction, I was a product of my Adventist subculture. And not knowing any other system, I settled into a more or less comfortable routine. On Sabbath, when it was convenient, I would go to church-if I felt like it.

After many years of this charade, this lukewarm going through the motions, Christ woke me from my spiritual slumber. But it was painful to discover that just because I had awakened to new life in Christ didn't mean those years of ambivalence, wrong attitudes, and impure motivations had just disappeared. I had brought some unnecessary and even harmful baggage with me, including a large bag labeled unrealistic expectations.

One of the first difficulties I encountered was a churchful of people who seemed frighteningly unable to talk about spiritual things-at least to me. It amazed me that God's gift of grace through Jesus our Savior was not talked about in those hallway conversations, but food and fashion, work and play, and politics and parties were. Was this "shyness" at discussing personal meaning in life just social convention, or was it being "ashamed of the gospel" (Rom. 1:16)?

Another difficulty that became apparent was that I didn't know how to serve you, the people with whom I worshiped. I have a deep aversion to doing or saying anything in front of more than three or four people, even if they're kids! This may seem ridiculous to someone who has not experienced that fear, but it is very real. Perhaps it stems in part from being "made" to perform in front as a child-something I greatly resented.

More ominous, though, were the many memories I had of critical remarks made by churchgoers about one another. Those harsh comments, while not directed at me, served to make me gradually withdraw from helping out for fear of not measuring up to everyone's expectations. Why risk the wrath of a fellow member when it was safer to sit on the sidelines?

With my new appreciation of a personal God, however, came the inner longing to share my new love of spiritual things. More than this, I also began to feel the desire to share by serving you, my newly cherished church. But the practical reality of these barriers I felt proved frustrating.
Then God in His patient mercy started to teach me the meaning of community. I began to realize that I was judging you with these old attitudes, and holding you to a standard that I didn't apply to myself. Now I realize it was I who was accusing you of being critical and it was I who needed to seek to initiate and guide conversation toward spiritual things.

Altered Perceptions
This awakening into the true meaning of Christian community has opened a whole new way of perceiving you. Now we are fellow travelers on the road to the kingdom. I want never to add knowingly to the burden of you walking beside me, but rather my deep desire is to help bear your burden and encourage your weary soul. I look at each of you in a new and more holy light. For I now see God leading each of you through the twists and turns of your lives, to the same goals that I know He is leading me: unity with Him. And that brings a profound sense of meaning to our fellowship.

By humbling myself before God, He has revealed to me much about you. Where I once saw you as just another face in the crowd, I now see you as a searching, struggling child of God-just as I am. I listen to your prayers before the whole congregation, and I'm deeply moved. As you, Tom, or Kathy, or Richard, open your hearts before God in adoration, praise, and gratitude, the silent prayers of my heart are joined with yours and ascend to heaven together. As you pray for grace, mercy, deliverance, forgiveness, and guidance, I feel the meaning of my life blending and bonding with yours, since I am pleading for those very things myself. And I thank God for His witness through your lives. I feel the Holy Spirit near.

I watch you, Diane, Larry, and Jennifer, as you teach my precious children in Sabbath school. You are so gentle, kind, and warm to them. I see Jesus in your faces as you serve in this often-unappreciated role. And I thank God for your selfless joy at doing this.

I stand next to you as we sing great hymns of faith and praise-every hymn a sermon-and find vast meaning in this expression. We sing of the place of quiet rest near to the heart of God, and I sense the longing in both our hearts to be there. We sing of serving a risen Savior, and I feel blessed at seeing that He lives within your heart. I sheepishly admit that I may not even remember your name, but coming closer to God together brings me closer to you.

I listen to the message with you and immerse myself in a search for meaning. I seek the truths that God is trying to teach us through the speaker's words. There is something in that sermon that God wants me to hear. I will not allow myself to be distracted by the style of delivery, poise of the presenter, or apparent time spent in preparation. No matter who the speaker, I lift my heart with yours to God and ask that the words be used for His glory and purpose.

New Meaning
With my new vision of community I have discovered meaning even in those awkward moments when a critical remark is heard. This is no opening to point out mistakes and weaknesses in others. I now realize that this awareness of failing is an invitation from the Holy Spirit to intercede on behalf of that individual for grace and understanding. This new attitude frees me from the temptation to judge (after all, it's Christ who is both judge and standard-not I), and calls me to the privilege of prayer. The focus is changed from condemnation to reconciliation, from hurt to healing, from self to the cross. This must please God, as opinions and agendas become lost in His call to oneness and unity.

My new view of the body of Christ is much larger now. It includes all who claim the blood of Christ as their only hope. This group obviously extends far beyond the physical walls of my church to embrace those from all faiths and levels of understanding who have surrendered to the call of Christ.

With joy I discovered that you are having hallway conversations about how much Christ means in your life! And I understand now that it was often your gentle unwillingness to offend that caused you not to speak to me about this reality. Now I have a widening circle of fellow believers with whom I do share intimately the joy and peace that Christ has brought to our lives. And the sense of community with you, through the Holy Spirit, grows.

Worship now has nothing to do with being entertained. Worship is an ever-deepening expression of gratitude and adoration to the One who created, sustains, and saves me. Its manifestation in church, together with you each Sabbath, is simply the highlight of a week in which each moment, each activity, and each thought is itself worship. Worship is a state of mind and existence, not a place. And on Sabbath each week, when I join with you to express and to share this experience, during this unique day which God Himself has blessed for this very purpose, our hearts are drawn closer as we draw nearer to the very heart of God.

We're in This Together
I was won to Christ in the lonely confrontation with the living God. And while the walk with God often may feel lonely and the vital union with God is intensely personal, strength and comfort and community exist in knowing that as you and I live each moment by the power of the Spirit and shed blood of Jesus, we travel together to the eternal kingdom of heaven, to the very presence of God.

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Ray Trublood is a pseudonym. The congregation and people are real; the names, however, are not.