Today was a banner day – a banner-making day, that is. For
one enamored with the magnificence of the liturgy, it was a joyful endeavor.
Sunday, my congregation will for the first time find a sanctuary dressed for the occasion. Thanks to a bit of labor on my part and a bushel of my wife’s artistic creativity and basting skills, the church gets a birthday present Sunday.
On each side of the chancel the folks will see a brilliant banner, bright red in color, with “Come” at the top and “Holy Spirit” at the bottom. Between a white dove descends silhouetted against the yellow and bright orange flames of Pentecost. Everyone’s seen banners of similar design, but not as salient as these. My Lynn made these.
Come, Holy Spirit, come.” Come soon because the banners are hung; Pentecost is Sunday and I’m stuck in the in-between – in-between a passion for the Kingdom and the realities of the space in which I live; in-between preaching the Word and discerning what is truly the Word; in-between a desire to pastor God’s children and up to my neck with the antics of the children of the Kingdom.
Come, Holy Spirit, come. Come soon, for Pentecost is Sunday. I have not a clue what to bring to the birthday celebration. I’d love to bring a new song, but the organist cannot play the tune. I’d love to bring an escape from the same-old-same-old, but there are only so many ways one can celebrate The Great Thanksgiving. I’d love to shout, lift my hands to heaven and praise the Lord on Pentecost, but some are already a bit dubious of my sanity.
When the congregants gather Sunday morning, the first-ever-to-hang-here-worship-banners will happily surprise. Maybe we’ll loosen up a bit and really have a party. Maybe … dare I pray for it? … maybe ….
Come, Holy Spirit, come and as we celebrate the birthday of the church, let something happen that is not printed in the bulletin.