The sanctuary is big, much bigger—and much higher—than our church’s sanctuary. I feel small in this cavernous space. But many of the faces are familiar. Holding Luke in my arms, I usher Jack and Jane toward Doug, who’s holding Ben and has saved us a seat about halfway up the right hand aisle.
My eyes are drawn to either side of the front of the church, where long, blood-colored banners hang from the ceiling on either side of the choir platform. On one banner is the Alpha and Omega and a lion; on the other, the Chi-Rho and a lamb.
We sit beside Joseph and Dana, whose twin girls were born the day we found out we were having twin boys. As the worship team begins singing, everyone surges to their feet.
“Holy cow,” I say out loud. “We’re standing up!”
In front of me, Barbie Kelly turns around and grins. “Yes!” she exclaims. I think she wants to give me a high five.
We’re in a strange place this morning, doing a crazy thing. It’s World Communion Sunday, and we have joined with two other churches to worship together on this Sunday morning.
