Today we had our outdoor monthly service at Logan Square.
I have begun to think of these services as "Church on Logan" because that's exactly who we are--the people of God gathering at Logan Square, sometimes also called Logan Circle. Ironically, we set up our altar on the triangle called the "Sister Cities."
Street church is energizing. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Today we had at least four (known) clergy present presiding at communion, coffee, cookies and conversation. But clergy are only a small part of Church on Logan. Sami led us in the 23rd psalm, the Confirmation class from Holy Apostle's Episcopal Church helped with communion, Carl offerd prayer, folks from St. John's in Essington brought home baked treats, Dr.Joe came through toting some kind of gift basket for the group, and a woman, whose words I couldn't understand but who was happy to be there, helped with the sermon.
With street church there are no "people in the pews" because we don't have any pews.
We gather in a circle and stand together. It is s a picture of being one.
Our altar is a card table covered with a beautiful cloth given to me by a dear friend. We have a cup, a plate, a small pitcher, grape juice and wafers. Usually we have a small cross on the table, but today Dennis forgot the cross. It didn't really matter because behind us was the huge Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul with it's high cross shadowing over us. Since the cross on this Roman Catholic Cathedral was about the same Jesus who died for us all, I figured no one would mind if we shared it for an hour.
Today we opened the service with "Kumbayah," a camp-y, almost cliche kind of a song except for when we thought about what it really meant...we were inviting God to "Come by here."
Someone needs you, Lord...come by here.
Someone's crying, Lord...come by here.
Someone's hungry...
lonely...
afraid...
you name it, Lord...come by here.
And then, when we were pretty convinced that we had lured Jesus away from the Winter Olympics and into the park, we had time for confession and reconciliation, closing with the healing words of The Serenity Prayer. Not just for recovering alcoholics, but for recovering sinners (as are we all) and saints (as are we all) too.
Sami led us in Psalm 23 and I read the gospel for this Sunady in Lent. The one where Jesus tells us that God loves us like a mother, only wanting to protect us the way a hen covers her brood. Even if it will cost him his life.
And once again, we were given the chance to share in the Bread of Life, the Cup of Salvation.
Afterwards one person came up to me and said, "You know, I feel really full."
This, from someone who did not know where their next meal would come from. But from someone who did have a different kind of hunger.
Tonight I thought about his words as I sat down to dinner, and I realized that I, too, felt like I had already eaten.
And, indeed, I had been fed.
I have begun to think of these services as "Church on Logan" because that's exactly who we are--the people of God gathering at Logan Square, sometimes also called Logan Circle. Ironically, we set up our altar on the triangle called the "Sister Cities."
Street church is energizing. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Today we had at least four (known) clergy present presiding at communion, coffee, cookies and conversation. But clergy are only a small part of Church on Logan. Sami led us in the 23rd psalm, the Confirmation class from Holy Apostle's Episcopal Church helped with communion, Carl offerd prayer, folks from St. John's in Essington brought home baked treats, Dr.Joe came through toting some kind of gift basket for the group, and a woman, whose words I couldn't understand but who was happy to be there, helped with the sermon.
With street church there are no "people in the pews" because we don't have any pews.
We gather in a circle and stand together. It is s a picture of being one.
Our altar is a card table covered with a beautiful cloth given to me by a dear friend. We have a cup, a plate, a small pitcher, grape juice and wafers. Usually we have a small cross on the table, but today Dennis forgot the cross. It didn't really matter because behind us was the huge Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul with it's high cross shadowing over us. Since the cross on this Roman Catholic Cathedral was about the same Jesus who died for us all, I figured no one would mind if we shared it for an hour.
Today we opened the service with "Kumbayah," a camp-y, almost cliche kind of a song except for when we thought about what it really meant...we were inviting God to "Come by here."
Someone needs you, Lord...come by here.
Someone's crying, Lord...come by here.
Someone's hungry...
lonely...
afraid...
you name it, Lord...come by here.
And then, when we were pretty convinced that we had lured Jesus away from the Winter Olympics and into the park, we had time for confession and reconciliation, closing with the healing words of The Serenity Prayer. Not just for recovering alcoholics, but for recovering sinners (as are we all) and saints (as are we all) too.
Sami led us in Psalm 23 and I read the gospel for this Sunady in Lent. The one where Jesus tells us that God loves us like a mother, only wanting to protect us the way a hen covers her brood. Even if it will cost him his life.
And once again, we were given the chance to share in the Bread of Life, the Cup of Salvation.
Afterwards one person came up to me and said, "You know, I feel really full."
This, from someone who did not know where their next meal would come from. But from someone who did have a different kind of hunger.
Tonight I thought about his words as I sat down to dinner, and I realized that I, too, felt like I had already eaten.
And, indeed, I had been fed.
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