It’s Saturday! In our household that means a little more sleep. We treasure those 30 minutes. In college, time was on our side. Naps were luxuries we took for granted. Now here we are: ten years have passed and three children later (one more on the way). Time matters a whole lot! The children are consistent early-risers. They are punctual little creatures. They love time. They love it so much that even without an alarm clock they detect that 6AM is coming. I am not fully awake, but I can hear them coming. Sometimes they come silently. Sometimes they come like hungry warriors. But they come…consistently. My lovely wife makes the first move. She is more courageous than I am that early. She does it without flinching. “What a mom,” I utter as I zombie my way back to sleep. Breakfast is ready. Children are fed. Sometimes the beach is a fine option. But the evening is reserved; an early Sabbath.
We begin our preparation for worship. Sunday mornings with three little ones can be a challenge. We try to go to bed relatively early. We usually make no Saturday appointments. Saturday evening is sacred in that we prepare ourselves for the sacred gathering. It is almost a ritual for us. Ironing and showers are constant activities. If we are hosting, it demands extra effort from our team. My oldest child unloads the dishwasher. My second child wants to do everything my oldest child does, which can be both entertaining and frightening to watch. My third child laughs, tumbles, and laughs some more. Preparation is key. And we begin the preparation early. Sunday morning arrives.
The man of the house is also the pastor of the Church. He begins to prepare himself psychologically for the events of the day. Sermon notes run through his mind; mental editing begins and really never stops until he begins preaching. He begins to hum through the psalms and hymns. Sunday mornings are created equal. It is always hard work. “Is the beer in the fridge for the guests?” “Are the floors clean?” “Are the plates set?” “We need to leave in the next ten minutes!” The excitement builds. We love Church. We prepare for it. But with little children nothing is easy. Mommy prepares herself. She makes sure that her war tools are ready: Diapers: check. Milk: check. Snacks: check. “I think we are ready!” She has her army under control. “Where are my clerical collars?” I ask. I have so many of them, but they never seem to be in the same place they were seven days ago. It’s naive of me to think they will be. But that is my liturgical pattern every Sunday.
It would be lovely to be a wizard. “A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.” a But that’s not how it works for pastors and their families. “Children, what day is today?” “The Lord’s Day!” “What do we do today?” “We worship God and sing His praises.” Yes, we do all these things, but it’s been a long journey until that moment. We died in one hundred different ways during the week, so we can be brought to life on the day of Resurrection. “Live the liturgy,” says the preacher. We are trying. It’s extremely challenging. It’s really very sanctifying. It’s holy work. Yes, it is.<>
- Tolkien (back)
