"THE HAUNTING"
Sunday, January 11, 2009
By Rev. Travis Franklin
Tonight we worshipped in our old, historic Chapel. It was originally built in 1890 and has been around the Salado Community for all of these many years. The music group who shared our worship music tonight sang a song that used a harmonica in the background during the chorus. The first time we sang the chorus and I heard that unique and melodic sound chills went up my spine. As I continued to listen and sing I began to look and more importantly feel my surroundings. The old Chapel is beautified by stain glass windows on each side and just behind the podium area. The wood is all natural and dark and looks its age. You can hear the floor creak each time you walk on it due to the old wood and its wear. It is all hard surfaces throughout the old building so the music of the harmonica behind the mandolin and guitar that were playing offered a very haunting sound.
As I listened and observed I wondered about all that had happened over the years in this sacred space where we now worshipped once again. If I really listened I could hear the cry of babies who were brought by their young families to be baptized there. Hopeful and representing the blessing and love of God as those familiar words were shared and those parents dared to promise before God and all who were there that their children would be raised in the church of Jesus Christ. I couldn’t help but think of all the weddings that had been performed there as couples of every age boldly proclaimed their love each to the other and sacredly made covenant with one another and God to love. I remembered the funeral that we had held there just in the past several days and all of the funerals before that one whereby we gave God thanks for those whom we had loved and who had loved us. And now, we celebrated their lives, their choices, their love, and we claimed for them the love and hope of all that we believe lies beyond death and the grave.
I thought about Christmas pageants of days gone by, of Easter celebrations, of communion services, of all who had made their membership vows to the church, of laughter, tears, music, sermons, ritual, hugs, board meetings, hymns, scripture being read, and the sacred life of the church being lived out.
As I sat there and sang I realized the sacredness of this special place. And then it dawned on me what common thread bound all of it together including my experience this evening as I worshipped. It was the spirit of God. God had been present at each service, each event, each experience seeking to love, forgive, lead, heal, and grace all who entered that special place. I wondered how many times God’s spirit had been present and working through such gifts as the haunting melody I listened to as it danced across the air and moved into my soul awakening it and stirring it.
I was thankful that tonight at least for this moment I briefly had a glimpse into the power and simplicity of how God works and what God uses as God seeks to gently love us and nurture us. I was glad that at least for tonight for some reason the many distractions of my life were put on hold for just a minute so that God could creep in and do what only God do in my life. Love me without condition, love me for who I am, and love me in such a way that I am inspired to have the courage to be me. Me, the person God made for this time and for this place. Just Me. I need to reminded of that from time to time. I desperately need the inspiration in a world like ours to be given permission to be me. For some reason me very rarely seems to be enough anymore. In a world that sees me as a consumer of products it is a refuge to be in a place and at a time where I am who I am and that is good enough.
On a cold Sunday night in January with a full moon shining outside on our old, wooden Chapel the music of a simple harmonica permeated the air and its haunting melody was a tool in the hand of God. It’s inspiring sound stirred my soul as I sang the words. And like thousands before me I was caught in its mystery, its grace, it’s beauty. And once again the love of my life found me, embraced me, and freed me to be me. Inside that white frame Chapel at least on this evening the air was warm and crisp with the love of God as it lightly and mysteriously filled me with joy, and grace, and love, and hope. Just another night down at the old Chapel? Hardly. For once again the spirit of God showed up and love graced us with its presence and mystery. And an old harmonica became the instrument of God and that sound haunts me and reminds me that God is here and that is all I ever need to know!
Travis