Paul concluded each of his letters with something greater than "Sincerely" or "Au revoir."  "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you" (1 Corinthians 16:23) - a prayer, a blessing, calling down the most precious, priceless realities on somebody else.  Words have power; they package love across space and time.

   The ancient Israelites understood these verbal blessings.  The oldest scrap of Bible archaeologists have ever found are little scrolls of thinly hammered out silver, with Numbers 6:24-26 scratched onto the surface:  "The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace."  And how were these miniature silver scrolls used?  They were placed in the grave with the body of a loved one - a simple, striking expression of faith, a recognition of the only thing that matters in the end, to see the face of God, to rest in God's peace, to be blessed by God and each other.

   When someone dies... what were his last words? and what did I last say to her?  Our last words in worship matter.  We pronounce a "benediction," a good word, underlining the love and grace we have just experienced, a common plea for that love to envelop us as we exit, and to be the protective, driving force until we return.

   Some clergy cleverly say, "The worship has ended, now the service begins."  Indeed.  The Greek word for "church" is ekklesia, which means "called out."  Worship catapults us out onto the streets, into our neighborhoods and workplaces, where we will be different.  We do not rush; we don't have to.  We do not fret over the day's schedule; we are freed from that.  "When we leave worship, we ought to go out the way Moses descended Mount Sinai:  with his face shining, with his heart brave and strong, to face the world's difficulties" (Oscar Romero).

   Yet in most languages, we do not say "Goodbye" with any finality.  The French say au revoir, and we may say "See you later."  We anticipate the time we will be together again; even when unlikely or impossible, our minds naturally gravitate toward a future togetherness.  So it is when we leave worship.  At the close of worship, the early Christians uttered an Aramaic word that lingered long after anybody spoke Aramaic:  Maranatha: "Come, Lord!"  (Revelation 22:20).  As we leave we not only long to be with the Lord, but to see each other's faces again:  "Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love...  When we asunder part, it gives us inward pain; but we shall still be joined in heart, and hope to meet again" (John Fawcett's hymn). 

James

james@mpumc.org

Coming up (the last installment as we conclude):

eWorship25 - Funeral

The complete eWorship series may be found on our web site.