Completion

Church is an interesting place. That is, "church" with a lower-case "c." As in, the physical space worshipers generally occupy on Sunday mornings.

It's an intersting space, because it is a space rife with expectations and standards you rarely find elsewere dictating posture (sitting, standing, kneeling, and potientially bowing), etiquette (when to speak, refrain from speaking), and emotional expression (yelling, shouting, crying, dancing, displays of affection). Every church contains it's own subset of these expectations for good or bad. Generally, I prescribe to the notion that it's good for churches to have some latitude because people can't be put in boxes. Room for individuality is key... but I digress.

One expectation I feel is generally affixed to most churches is the idea that all attendees must pay attention to the speaker. (although really, this is merely an extention to what we've all learned about any gathering of people with a leader) To the paster/reverend/priest/what-have-you at the pulpit/dais/music-stand/coffee table/whatever, you may not display anything less than intent listening with maybe the occasional yawn without risking people thinking you don't really care.

This is wrong, In my view. Maybe I'm saying this to assuage my own suppressed guilt from the dozens of sermons that have made that journey between ears while managing only a brief stop to say hello somewhere inbetween. Regardless, I feel the words of whoever's up front are really only optional at best to listen to. 

The physical space, church, is really just a meeting place. A safe place to meditate and to set the lens off our own life for but an hour and half and critically think about the implications of Christ. Sometimes a sermon will help. Sometimes following along with the fill-in-the-blank cut-and-dry sermon-notes will be of use. But I've found that as long as I'm not thinking about what groceries I need to buy or where I'd like to go on a date, church can be most beneficial when I'm thinking and praying my own thoughts and prayers.

That's where I found myself this last Tuesday at a ministry I attend. I could feel that my brain had shut down many hours previous... I needed my journal to keep my mind and heart busy. This is what I fond myself jotting down. [PS, this is actually how many of these posts are born in their earliest of stages]

Christ doesn't simply complete us,

without Him, we would be nothing.

Christ doens't simply complete us, 

Christ is our Sum-total.

We exist in the darkenss and He is the Light.

We are but vapor while He is The Rock, our Fortress

Solid and True.

I think about completeness from time to time, particularly the number 7, which is one of several numbers that is consistently used in the Bible and almost entirely in reference to some kind of completion. 7 days of creation. 7 years of "tribulation," many of the feasts on the Jewish calendar cycle by increments of 7, etc. (comment if you come across any others that I'm sure I'm forgetting) ANYwho, I think about it. It's an important concept, there being a beginning and an end and the fact that God transcends all of that...

I found myself wondering at the idea of God completing my life.... making me whole. How offhand of a thought that is, and how at surface, it seems good and true. And when taken to the full extent, it is. We wouldn't even /exist/ if there had been no God! Our lives, even when not in harmony with the One who made this whole thing, still are fulfilling some important role. We are inseparable from Him, however distant we may lead ourselves to believe we are...    I think I at least can easily forget this, and there are times the idea of Him completing my life has as much weight as knowing that the final check mark on a list of to-dos completes my day.