The peaceful scene brought a familiar hymn to mind, God Leads Us Along. I’ll share the first verse and chorus here (text from hymnary.org):
In shady, green pastures, so rich and so sweet,
God leads His dear children along;
Where the water’s cool flow bathes the weary one’s feet,
God leads His dear children along.
Refrain:
Some through the waters, some through the flood,
Some through the fire, but all through the blood;
Some through great sorrow, but God gives a song,
In the night season and all the day long.
— George A. Young
I’ve often drawn comfort from the reminder that “God gives a song” even when we face challenges beyond what we imagined. More recently, though, I find myself meditating on the phrase “but all through the blood.” The Church of St. Michael & St. George is full of parishioners with different life circumstances, political leanings, and vocational callings, yet we are redeemed equally by the blood of our Savior. The Apostle Paul assures us in Ephesians 1:7, “In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace,” which is echoed in the familiar words of the Eucharistic Prayer: “And although we are unworthy, through our manifold sins, to offer unto thee any sacrifice, yet we beseech thee to accept this our bounden duty and service, not weighing our merits, but pardoning our offenses, through Jesus Christ our Lord.”
If you haven’t yet joined fellow parishioners for one of the outdoor, in-person services on Sunday and are able to health-wise, I highly recommend that you register, wear your mask, and receive the blessing of communal worship! Of course, it’s not quite the same. Along with an expedited service, receiving communion entails receiving only the bread—the body of our Lord Jesus Christ. To my surprise, I miss receiving the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ — the cup of salvation. I understand why we receive the host only for now, and I feel assured of Christ’s presence with us regardless of whether we swallow communion wine. Yet I’m certain that when our worship practices are fully restored, I will shed “happy tears” (as Peter Nathaniel would say). Until then, I hope to pass the peace with you from a safe distance on the playground at CSMSG.
Rachel Martens
