His name is Henry.
He and his grandmother walked into the church one night.
We did not have our regular children's program that night.
But that didn't stop Henry.
It was as if he had been there all his life.
He walked to the front of the sanctuary and sat on the front pew.
His grandmother chose the back pew.
That night the choir with a small orchestra presented special music.
Henry had never seen such.
He pulled on my arm to get my attention....
from that point on his questions flowed.
What is that?
It's a baptism font.
Do you own this building?
No, the congregation....
all the people who come here
own the building.
Why did you chose this kind of brick?
What are these books?
What are those shiny pipes?
What do you do here?
All questions designed to tell our story....
and we did.
People of all ages helped Henry that night.
They showed him how to use the hymn book.
The helped him when it was time to sit and stand.
They shook his hand and welcomed him by name.
Henry reminded us of the wonder and the joy of faith.
Let the children come.
That's what the Bible says.
Let the come and you come like one of them.
That doesn't mean we act like spoiled brats....
That means we come with the awe
and wonder
and joy
that a child has.
I will forever be thankful for Henry.
He reminded us
who we are.
And he gave us reason
to tell our story.
"We gather,
because God loves us
and we want to say
thank you."
That's what we told Henry.
And he said to us at the end of the night,
"Thank you."
3 comments:
O, Henry.
Oh, community of faith.
"We gather,
because God loves us
and we want to say
thank you."
If I could relay this to all of my doubting, waivering, nonbelieving friends so simply and have them see what I see, I would in an instant.
if only this spirit of enquiry and enthusiasm and gratitude would infect us all ...
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