On the front page of the Arts&Life section in this morning’s Cleveland Plain Dealer are two articles–by one white and one black columnists–about an upcoming interdenominational Christian event called Praisefest. This will be year 2 of the event, which apparently drew 10,000 people and was comprised by a vast majority of attendees from African-American churches. In fact, the two columnists write that there is great intentionality in inviting a wider diversity of church-goers. Indeed I hope that those who fill The Q (our local pro sports arena) will be an integrated crowd! I’m sure the PD will follow up on Monday.
The gathering at last night’s Ash Wednesday supper and service at Noble Road will not get any press. And yet, it was a beautiful sight: faithful folks from churches mostly Black, mostly White, and mixed 50/50! Aspiring disciples from Calvary, First Church (East Cleveland), Immanuel, Noble Road, and St. Mark’s Presbyterian churches interspersed around tables of communion. While it is true that we shared in the Lord’s Supper later on, the meaning of communion was found in the sharing of lives.
If there was an over-arching theme of the evening, it was pronounced by the One Great Hour of Sharing placemats on the tables: “Who is my neighbor?” The evening’s planning team decided to randomly mix folks up as they were seated. By not sitting with folks from our own churches, we had to work a little harder to answer that neighbor-defining question. Even though we are all Presbyterians, it was still a bit disarming to have to seperate from those with whom we arrived. And yet, as the evening moved from the simple soup supper, into worship, that discomfort soon eased.
Hymns, prayers, and scripture readings have a way of uniting us. Being reminded of our humanness, also has a way of reminding us that we are all neighbors of one another. By the time we gathered around the table for the marking of ashes and communion, we all melted into one body of people made from God’s holy earth, and claimed both in brokenness and in blessing.
While Sunday Morning still has a claim on our institutions of worship, this Ash Wednesday, we had a foretaste of God’s Kindom. And even in the midst of acknowledging our brokenness, we were blessed!
