To my great joy and eternal happiness, Redeemer has returned to its roots (in one or two ways)!
Last week we returned to "The Federation" building out of necessity. Our old "tabernacle" is being demolished. And I couldn't be happier!
My, it was strange walking into that great ballroom again. Since we've had a bit of housecleaning (out of necessity) in the administration area, the whole show was run a little differently. For some CRAZY reason (and I'm not afraid to say it!) we are only filling up half of the dang ballroom and staying at two services. Well I think that stinks.
The stage isn't being used. And the choir sits behind the congregation. I don't complain.
If I wasn't afraid of being crucified, I might say that I think the choir sounds better in the ballroom than in the chapel.
Oh, and no more organ! There's a lovely piano.
If I wasn't afraid of being crucified, I might say that I like the piano better (a lot better) than the organ.
(Reader: What kind of church does this girl go to?!)
It felt different, but a little the same.
On Sunday Daniel was an usher, which means that I have to pretty much sit by myself. I save a seat for him and shoo off people that try to take it, and I look around during the whole service thinking he'll come and sit with me at some point. This Sunday he was able to join me for the sermon and communion!
I sat a little towards the backish rightish corner, and as the ballroom/church/tabernacle began to fill up, I noticed that I picked the parents-with-small-children corner.
*Now, I am not about to complain about children in worship. If that's where you are, that's where they should be.
So I was surrounded by these families with all their delightful children (and they sit still through worship too!), and they'd all been so well behaved through the songs and the sermon and the prayers, etc. Then it was time for the Lord's Supper. The bread was passed around without a hitch. We were doin' good.
Then it was time for the wine. Yes, WINE.
At Redeemer they pass around a tray with small plastic cups for everyone to take and hold so we can all partake together. The wine is making a good, safe and sound run through the entire front section...and then it gets to the parents-with-small-children-corner. I don't know what it was--maybe it was the new surroundings, different chairs, no organ--I don't know. But the communion cups started dropping like flies. And with each fall of a cup there was a loud *pop* followed by several *splats!* This sound repeated itself about 8 times before the elder serving communion finally made it to the back of our section and took his place in line, never to return again.
What was humorous to me (and mortifying to the parents and little children involved), was that everytime one of the kids dropped a cup, they froze up with this awful, "Oh man, oh man ohmanohmanohman" look on their faces. Then they would scrunch up their eyes and shed silent tears, not knowing what to expect from dad when church was over. The parents, on the other hand would watch the horrific, slack-staining scene unfold with bulging eyes, grab the tray, and quickly hand it off to the next innocent victim. Then they would look at their pitiful, silently sobbing toddler and get this sort of sparkle in their eye. Oh, I knew they wanted to laugh SO BAD. But they couldn't. That would be setting a bad example.
So I laughed for them.