The Creed

Walking home this Sunday evening was quite nice.  I had been to a Eucharistic service. The service had been a small one.  Michigan State’s student population has not returned yet for short summer classes and it was Mother’s Day.  Students and people who have mothers make up a goodly portion of the congregation.  Me I have no mother or mother in law, I have only the mother of my children and we had done our celebrating earlier.  Tonight, I was the usher.  There were in total 17 people including the pastor, the pianist and me. 

Despite the scant attendance, the service was one that brought joy to my heart.  We sang the old hymns tonight; Blessed Assurance and There is a Balm in Gilead were two I really appreciated.  It took me back to the Baptist Church of my youth.  We would belt out those Fanny J. Crosby hymns at the top of our lungs.  My father’s gravelly bass voice would be off to my left and the choir would be directly in front of me. The spirit moved me tonight almost like it moved me back then. I felt forgiven and refreshed as I left the sanctuary.

As I walked home the city was quieter than usual.  With it being Mother’s Day the noise level was low. Neither lawnmowers, nor weedwackers were to be heard. Walking down Sunset Avenue I caught glimpses of pure light’s escape from our world.  Try as I might I could not get the sense I got directly from seeing the sun’s rays playing in the pines captured in an image.  I did catch one image of gold pouring through a green leaf.  That image is above. It almost was what I saw, almost.

In the LCMS, we say the Apostles’ Creed at about the midpoint of the service each time.  It precedes the offering and comes after the homily.  When I walk, I am living my own kind of creed.  What my footsteps say is that I believe life is a good thing.  What my limited eyesight captures tells me that beauty can be found almost anywhere. Yeah, I have a creed too.