How the Story is Shared

As its intention, experiential worship hopes to set a scenario in which you can actively experience the Word through more than one of the senses, not just passively hearing the Word. It’s a type of worship that our staff is interested in pursuing, as opportunities arise within the context of the message. The point is not to offer a carnival side show on a whim, it’s to enhance the Word. It’s not forced, it’s an extension. Last week Clay had to choose between two passages - Jacob wrestling or Jesus feeding the 5,000. He used Jacob's story, but using my unrefined judgment and imagination, I jumped to the other story. I envisioned experiencing feeding the 5,000 with our resident caterer whipping up breakfast on the side. We would be able to hear the sounds of preparation, smell the fresh ingredients, and then, of course, taste the benefits of combining and stretching the food groups to create a meal! Who wants to wrestle and get dirty when you can eat?!? (There’s a reason Clay went to seminary, thank God!)

One of the blogs that I read regularly was considering my other story more theologically when he wrote:

When the disciples questioned if the five loaves and two fishes would be enough to feed everyone, Jesus told them to just start feeding people and trust they would have enough. The way I’ve always imagined the scene is, as the boy’s lunch was passed and the unabashed sharing became obvious, others who had food of their own thought, “Well, I could share my lunch,” and the next thing they knew they had leftovers. When I watch how inclined we are to hang on to what’s ours, I have no doubt that meal was a miracle.

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You send constant invitations to join you and experience your participation in our world every day. Sunrise, waking toddlers, produce at the market, wild flowers, vistas of the land, and the look of one in need provide all the evidence our eyes can take in. Cleansing showers, comforting hugs, a companion’s hand, cold snowflakes, and the pain of loss afford the realization that we are alive, feeling, and connecting. Thunderclaps, laughter, crashing waves, bubbling brooks, birds singing, and cries for help call to our attuned ears. Baking bread, cut grass, rain showers, puppy’s bellies, and the souring smell of idleness supplement a bouquet of awareness. We are fed by your Word and we are sated. You bestow more than one can use in a lifetime. Let us share unabashedly. Amen