I was overwhelmed by what I saw at Trinity Grace Church on Sunday.
This is the congregation that Molly has connected with. It meets in an elementary school building on the upper west side. There are ten separate Trinity Grace congregations in New York City, and this particular one has become a spiritual home for Molly. It takes a long time for Molly to get there - and the trip requires rides on both trains and subways - but she assures us that it's worth all that effort and more. We woke up early on Sunday to make sure that we get there on time.
Julie and I were just about the oldest people in the gathering today. The school auditorium was packed with young people. I assumed they were mostly students, but Molly explained to me that most of the people there were actually young professionals - people who have already finished with school and are now seeking to make a difference as followers of Jesus in New York.
It's hard to assess a group of people simply by sharing a worship service together, but something caught my eye today that I've been thinking about ever since.
And I'm not exactly sure how to explain it - except to say that the room seemed to be filled with hungry people. Everywhere I looked, people were frantically scribbling notes in journals, tracking the Scripture passage as the pastor taught, nodding, and even exhibiting what's known sometimes as the listener's lean. (That's what happens when listeners are so captive to the teacher that they literally lean forward. Even their body language communicates a passion not to miss a single word.)
The circumstances were not really conducive to good teaching - or even good worship for that matter. The group meets in a school auditorium (with those old wooden seats). The temperature today hovered around "unbearable" in the stuffy room (with no air conditioning). Loud fans were running in the back of the room that helped with the heat - but made hearing difficult. The pastor's message was wonderful - but it was thick and tightly argued. He told no funny stories and he seemed to have no interest in entertaining anyone. He unpacked God's word beautifully, but it took work to stick with him. The music was obviously well prepared and worshipful, but not very showy.
If ever there was a day when it was possible to say that the service was too long or too loud or too hot or too hard to hear or too intellectual or too liturgical or too contemporary or too whatever . . . today was that day.
And yet . . .
And yet, everybody seemed so hungry!
I was simply overwhelmed. Obviously, I have no idea about the hearts of those who were gathered there - and I have no business even wondering about that. My concern should have been - and should always be - my heart. And I found myself hungry too. But I honestly think I was hungry . . . because I was in the presence of so many other hungry people. In truth, I was pretty tired. I could have easily disengaged - especially when the pastor starting preaching. It was a perfect day for day dreaming. But I hung on every word and I made sure that I wouldn't miss a thing. Personally, I wasn't scribbling notes . . . but it seemed like everybody else was.
We often evaluate worship by how it makes us feel. We talk about the music we like and we define exactly how long a good sermon should last. We like to be comfortable and we expect to have our needs met. We like what we like.
But I'm not sure that any of that matters much. I think what matters most is how hungry for God we are when we gather.
There was a feast in that school auditorium this morning.
And all that was required to share in it was to show up hungry.