SANCTUARY [Sat, 10-17-26]

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter—SANCTUARY [Sat, 10-17-26]

Lord, prepare me, to be a sanctuary…

That was the first line of the chorus we sang to open Sunday morning worship at my new church. It was my first Sunday at that church, and the chorus was new to me. I wasn’t quick to pick up the words.

…pure and holy, tried and true…

No, I got those okay, but I got mixed up on the next words, because I was distracted. I was thinking about the rest of the service, how to read the congregation when it was my turn to be up front. I was retired, and the bishop had appointed me there, part time, as a transition for a congregation that was troubled and confused and needed a sanctuary in their sanctuary.

…with thanksgiving I’ll be a living…

I read the congregation pretty well that day, that year. We had a good time together. I had inherited quite a few wrinkles, but we got them ironed out.

After that first service, though, the song leader’s wife confronted me, in a rather hostile fashion. She thought I had not sung Sanctuary with enough gusto. Apparently, I thought I was better than others because I had a lot of education. And, yes, I had a lot of experience, but that did not mean that I understood the people in that congregation. The District Superintendent had told them all about how competent I was, but she wasn’t being fooled.

I was amazed that she knew me so well just by the way I sang, or did not sing, Sanctuary.

“Oh, no,” I said. “I like Sanctuary. I just hadn’t heard it before…” But she was already walking away. She never returned.

…sanctuary for you.

Was she just being protective of her husband, the song leader? Did she think I was dissing him by having to mumble some of the words?

Not likely. I wasn’t up in front, sitting in the chancel, where everyone could see me. In fact, I had my back to the congregation, sitting in the front pew, waiting while he led the opening chorus and made announcements.

Nobody in the congregation seemed to notice her absence. At least, they didn’t say anything about it. The song leader continued for a few weeks but finally told me he wasn’t coming back anymore, either. Nobody said anything about that, either.

There are a thousand reasons to dislike a pastor, and some of them make sense. Some don’t.

My predecessor in that congregation, everyone agreed, was a nice and intelligent man, but a terrible preacher. No one understood what he was talking about, and he didn’t know how to finish a sermon. He just kept on and on. Finally, a woman made three signs that she held during his sermon while sitting in the front row. The first read Ten Minutes The second read Five Minutes. The third read You’re Done. Everyone said that he seemed appreciative when she held up the last sign. He stopped immediately, even in the middle of a word.

If a church has an incompetent preacher, there are lay members who get satisfaction by filling the gaps of incompetency. They get used to it. When a new preacher comes along, and those gaps are no longer there, they are disappointed. Their importance is diminished. They are not happy about that. The church is no longer their sanctuary.

Lord, prepare me, to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true. With thanksgiving, I’ll be a living, sanctuary, for you.

That church was the last of my every-Sunday appointments, although I did a couple of short interim pastorates after that. I’ve not heard a congregation sing Sanctuary in all in my 20 years since. But I sing it every day, myself, to start my day.

John Robert McFarland