Until this past Sunday we had not worshipped in the woods for two years. We had become accustomed to our hybrid church in-person and on Zoom. And yet, even though that technology would not be possible in the woods at Dayspring, the Spirit moved us to go. I knew my heart had withered in some way without worshipping on the land with my community. Refreshment and sanctuary certainly have been blessings of time spent outdoors. But that time was not with my faith community.
It had rained for several days. Happily, this morning dawned bright and clear and cool. When we gathered, our community immediately enlarged as the birds drew nearer, the breeze intensified, and the whispering rustles in the understory of the forest grew louder. The hospitality of the living land was palpable. The liturgist spoke what I think we were all sensing: we had been missed. And were now obviously being welcomed, embraced. More than that, oh why was I amazed, we were being joined in worship.
My heart exulted in awe and joy. I felt a familiar and yet new kinship with God and all of creation. After two years, I am different, the world is different, and this was different. The wonder of this is difficult, perhaps impossible, to describe. Just the day before, I had been leading a seminar for clergy on oneness in creation. Yet the words I had spoken now had a new, different meaning.
I continue to reflect on the almost overwhelming sense of rightness in being outdoors co-participating in praise of the Author-of-All, in community with the living beings all around us. The Author was fully present. The magnificent authority of our Creator was shimmering and alluring. Somehow, God’s own design and desire permeated every moment. Affirmation and rightness resounded in my bones. I also had a sense that this awareness of oneness was always God’s intent — that this form of worship is essential, always has been and always will be. Essentially intrinsic to the fulfillment of God’s dream.
As I pray with the prayer Jesus taught,* I realize with wonder and humility the goodness of “thy” and “kingdom” in the King James translation. God certainly does reign in the kin-dom of our life on Earth. As it is in heaven. “Thy kingdom come” is the song I heard Earth singing on Sunday. The power and glory and majesty of God saturated everything with a harmony of the whole.
Every translation is good to pray. Pray with every one and notice how they harmonize. The First Nations Version of “thy kingdom come” is, “Bring your good road to us, where the beauty of your ways in the spirit-world above is reflected in the earth below.” Again, harmony of the whole. May we continue to seek that good road, worshipping and living in harmony with all of creation.
–Ann Dean, Dayspring Church
- What experience can you describe when there was a sense of the reign of God coming true in and through community worship?
- How would you describe the Spirit’s invitation to you for new harmony in prayer and worship?
