Sanctuary in Blue

by Bob Setzer, Jr.
The sanctuary has been feeling a bit blue lately. I know this because she and I visit often. Mostly she talks, and I listen. Listening is a big part of a pastor’s calling.

The sanctuary is feeling blue because all the gorgeous ornamentation of Advent and Christmas is gone: the glorious purple and gold banners, the enchanting Advent wreath, the Chrismon tree bedecked with twinkling lights. The crimson red poinsettias have snuck off stage and the baby Jesus is no longer resting peacefully in the hand-carved manger scene. Naturally, the sanctuary is feeling the loss.

I tell the Lady at the top of Poplar she is still beautiful, and she is. I tell her how I love her soaring buttresses, the sun-drenched rose window at her back, the skylights that lift the eye and heart upwards toward God. I tell her how it calms my heart to soak up the warmth and color streaming through her stained-glass windows.

She nods appreciatively, if sadly, as fading beauties sometimes do. Because truth be told, some of her beauty is gone. At least for a while.

Maybe you feel it too. The wonder of Christmas is behind us. The sweet, non-threatening baby Jesus has been replaced by a nettlesome rabbi with an attitude. The packed house on Christmas Eve has thinned. The hymns and anthems are still moving, but how does one trump “Silent Night” and “The Hallelujah Chorus”?

The church has an expression for this awkward, less exciting season in which we find ourselves: it’s called “ordinary time.” “Ordinary time” is the season between Epiphany and Lent/Easter and from Pentecost till Advent/Christmas. In other words, most of the church year is spent in “ordinary time.” Most of life is lived in “ordinary” time.

Yes, there are special, epoch-making moments when the joy bubbles up and gratitude spills off the plate: new births, graduations, weddings, silver and gold anniversaries, the once-upon-a-time gold watch at retirement. But those special times of celebration are formed and sustained by the day-to-day caring and commitment that gives them meaning.

The same is true in following Jesus. His invitation was not “check in with me whenever faith runs fresh and free.” No, his invitation, yea, his demand was and is “Deny yourself, take up your cross daily, and follow me” (Luke 9:23) in ordinary time, that is today, tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that. Because following Jesus day-by-day-by-day is what it takes to slowly become a little more like him. And thankfully, even ordinary time becomes sacred and precious when spent in his company, his service, his joy.

As I left the sanctuary this morning, she seemed to rise to her new calling. I know God’s people at the top of Poplar will do the same.