Lately I've been attending a house church of sorts. It's well established in town, though presently existing without a designated building. The body meets in the second floor of an elementary school tucked away in a residential area.
Some things about the service are a far cry from that to which most of us would be accustomed in America. An interpreter stands on stage with the pastor and translates sermons into the local dialect sentence by sentence. Everyone gathers for chai tea (known here as cha) after each service. Half the women wear saris. Half the men wear what would appear to us to be dresses.
Some things, though, feel just like home. We administer the same sacraments, we read the same scriptures, and we sing the same songs. The congregation is particularly fond of "The Old Rugged Cross." Every time they begin the first bar I feel like I've been transported to the deep south.
...only I haven't. It's not that these people are emulating what was common to my rearing; though it may be more prevalent in my home than in theirs, and this particular song may have been penned in my country. The principle is simpler: our faith is universal. This message and these practices are not "just like home" as though my home were the prototype for comparison. These practices are carried out in the pursuit of the glory of our Lord— a Lord whose nature is steadfast and unchanging from here to the moon and back. His yoke is transcendentally easy, and his burden is universally light.
Some things about the service are a far cry from that to which most of us would be accustomed in America. An interpreter stands on stage with the pastor and translates sermons into the local dialect sentence by sentence. Everyone gathers for chai tea (known here as cha) after each service. Half the women wear saris. Half the men wear what would appear to us to be dresses.
Some things, though, feel just like home. We administer the same sacraments, we read the same scriptures, and we sing the same songs. The congregation is particularly fond of "The Old Rugged Cross." Every time they begin the first bar I feel like I've been transported to the deep south.
...only I haven't. It's not that these people are emulating what was common to my rearing; though it may be more prevalent in my home than in theirs, and this particular song may have been penned in my country. The principle is simpler: our faith is universal. This message and these practices are not "just like home" as though my home were the prototype for comparison. These practices are carried out in the pursuit of the glory of our Lord— a Lord whose nature is steadfast and unchanging from here to the moon and back. His yoke is transcendentally easy, and his burden is universally light.
No comments:
Post a Comment