Celebration And Sorrow

This past Sunday was a significant one in our house, in that it was both Robin's birthday and Mother's Day. We had a great celebration of Robin. Kat made dinner, I organized the gifts and Robin made the cake. She had wanted a very particular kind of cake, which she had never made before. There turned out to be enough that we ate it for breakfast on Sunday and then had the rest after dinner. At day's end Robin let us know that it was a delightful day from start to finish.

This past Sunday was also another day spent worshiping at home, rather than in our church, which sits perhaps 75 feet from our house. So near, and yet so far. It was our ninth straight Sunday at home, and we have no idea how much longer it will continue. Like so many other places we have members who want to be cautious about resuming gathered worship and others who would like to get back together much sooner. In practical terms I believe that being on a reservation means that we must be mindful and respectful of the preferences and policies of tribal leadership and let that guide the timing and nature of returning to worship together on a Sunday morning.

One of the things I found myself missing this past Sunday from our ordinary worship was the time we spend each Sunday in prayer. Specifically I missed two things about prayer.

One was the time each Sunday when we invite anyone who would like to be prayed over for healing to come forward. It is the particular way in which we apply James 5:14, which says:

"Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord."

I extend the invitation and whomever would like prayer comes forward. I anoint each person by name and then invite anyone who would like to lay on hands to join us. When we are all gathered I pray aloud. When I make the invitation I make mention that the healing might be physical, emotional, spiritual and I try to work that thought into the prayer as we seek for God to bring healing to their lives. Sometimes I have an idea of what a person's particular need is, but often I don't. My role as pastor is to lift the person to God and to trust in Him to do what is necessary, on His timing and according to His will.

The other thing I found myself missing was the congregational prayer that follows the prayer for healing. Before that prayer I ask for prayer requests. Sometimes people just give a name of someone that they would like prayer for. Sometimes they give some details of a situation. I have a rough format that I follow each week and to the best of my ability I try to work each request into the prayer that we, as a congregation, lift to God together.

So this last Sunday, Mother's Day, what I missed about these two times of prayer was praying with and for mothers who are grieving. Mothers who are no longer able to have the kind of celebration that we had on Sunday with Robin. Since Mother's Day last year I've done funerals for seven mom's who lost one of their children. Seven. I'm missing the pastoral care that takes place in praying for and with people in times of life that are virtually too sad and hard to put into words.

It is easy in our culture to take an occasion such as Mother's Day, and make it a big celebration. And there is no real problem with that. But life here on the reservation makes me increasingly aware of the many people for whom such a day is not one of celebration, but of sorrow.

It is easy to go to God with our thanks and celebrations. But is just as important that we go to Him with our sorrow, for He is the only one who truly understands it.

He understands. He cares. He pours out His love on His children, even in the most challenging to times. Times of celebration, sure, but also in times of sorrow. Amen.

Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version® (ESV®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.