A word from Bob Henderson
July 20, 2022
Dear friends:
As this time of sabbatical begins to wind down, my gratitude deepens for the rare privilege of sustained renewal and refreshment. I’m deeply aware that few are afforded such opportunity, and Suzanne and I have certainly sought to make the most of it. Let me share a few thoughts before we spend the final week or two visiting family and returning home.
First, I’ve found welcome spiritual renewal by participating in engaging worship. Upon reflection, I’ve noticed that the richest worship experiences have shared a few defining characteristics. The service language is highly embodied and minimally formulaic. For instance, instead of saying, “God is omniscient, and in providential love claims us in covenant love,” the liturgist embodies this claim of faith and says, “The God of all knows us, sees us, and loves us still,” which, of course, is our most profound longing. One of my favorite liturgists – a young Scottish woman -- prayed rather memorably, “Thank you, Lord, for good food: sherbet, sugar, and salt.” Now, at nearly every meal, I remember this prayer and join in its sentiment. This embodied language provides important access to faith and helps transfer its strength from the transcendence of the sanctuary to the imminence of the kitchen table.
The second dimension I’ve appreciated about our worship experiences is the capacity to speak directly to the challenges of today’s world …relational pain/anxiety, gun violence, environmental change. When participating in worship we enter a worldview defined by faith rather than the plethora of other identity-giving affiliations available to us. I’ve been struck by how refreshing it is to hear claims of faith address systemic difficulties without experiencing it as just so much more politics. For instance, freedom is an essential claim of Christian faith, and yet to speak of it from the pulpit (at least in the American South) risks being heard as political polemic. It has been nice to be in environments less encumbered by political identity and more clearly defined by Christian identity. Ironically, this has come in less ‘churched’ cultures than the one we experience in Charlotte.
May I be bold enough to say that I hope our future trends in this direction, that we, as a congregation and a people, can embrace core claims of faith (and their implications) because we identify first as Christians and second (or even third or fourth) as one of our many other identity-giving affiliations. There’s a lot of freedom to be found here, and grace, both of which seem to be in short supply in our world right now. I probably can’t overstate how vital I think this is to the future of the Christian church, especially in the American South, that texts and topics aren’t ‘off-limits’ because they may be heard in political terms, and are, instead, approached with genuine curiosity because the topic (e.g., freedom, work, peace/war, life/Imago Dei) is essential to our faith. It begins, I believe, by deepening our Christian identity, and letting it influence our many other – and (hopefully!) secondary – identity markers. We might begin by examining the allocation of our inputs, how much time we spend sourcing our worldview with Christian faith versus the many other ideologies (national, economic, political) which compete for our allegiance.
Third (and final, for now!) I’ve experienced worship as sacred space marked by expansive grace. That single characteristic -- sacred space defined by grace – has allowed people from all walks of life to gather to pray, praise, confess, grow, and connect with fellow wayfarers on the journey. None of the worship environments suggested a ‘culture of fine,’ though several of them were ensconced in communities of economic privilege. None of them self-declared as ‘traditional’ or ‘contemporary,’ though all the services we attended happened to hew to a more traditional expression. Instead, every service was defined by a sense of the sacred, an experience where people from every age, stage, and station on the journey could encounter the holy and be nourished in a life of faithful discipleship. Every other cultural expectation (dress-code, sexual orientation, marital status, age, ability) was clearly secondary. Again, there was real freedom (and grace and beauty) in this experience, and it left an imprint of quiet joy. I think we do this well at Covenant, and I hope we’ll become even better.
I’ll conclude by saying how nice it is to have what someone called “long, round hours.” It’s almost like being a child again. I’ve read many books, hiked numerous trails, enjoyed sunsets and sunrises, and, of course, delighted in time with family. As I said at the beginning of this now near-tome, it’s a rare privilege, and one for which I’m deeply grateful.
I look forward to seeing you soon and assure you of my daily prayers.
Warmly,
Bob
P.S. Here are a couple of pictures of our adventures, mostly having to do with climbing gorgeous mountains, seeing wildlife, and being healthy!
Dear friends:
As this time of sabbatical begins to wind down, my gratitude deepens for the rare privilege of sustained renewal and refreshment. I’m deeply aware that few are afforded such opportunity, and Suzanne and I have certainly sought to make the most of it. Let me share a few thoughts before we spend the final week or two visiting family and returning home.
First, I’ve found welcome spiritual renewal by participating in engaging worship. Upon reflection, I’ve noticed that the richest worship experiences have shared a few defining characteristics. The service language is highly embodied and minimally formulaic. For instance, instead of saying, “God is omniscient, and in providential love claims us in covenant love,” the liturgist embodies this claim of faith and says, “The God of all knows us, sees us, and loves us still,” which, of course, is our most profound longing. One of my favorite liturgists – a young Scottish woman -- prayed rather memorably, “Thank you, Lord, for good food: sherbet, sugar, and salt.” Now, at nearly every meal, I remember this prayer and join in its sentiment. This embodied language provides important access to faith and helps transfer its strength from the transcendence of the sanctuary to the imminence of the kitchen table.
The second dimension I’ve appreciated about our worship experiences is the capacity to speak directly to the challenges of today’s world …relational pain/anxiety, gun violence, environmental change. When participating in worship we enter a worldview defined by faith rather than the plethora of other identity-giving affiliations available to us. I’ve been struck by how refreshing it is to hear claims of faith address systemic difficulties without experiencing it as just so much more politics. For instance, freedom is an essential claim of Christian faith, and yet to speak of it from the pulpit (at least in the American South) risks being heard as political polemic. It has been nice to be in environments less encumbered by political identity and more clearly defined by Christian identity. Ironically, this has come in less ‘churched’ cultures than the one we experience in Charlotte.
May I be bold enough to say that I hope our future trends in this direction, that we, as a congregation and a people, can embrace core claims of faith (and their implications) because we identify first as Christians and second (or even third or fourth) as one of our many other identity-giving affiliations. There’s a lot of freedom to be found here, and grace, both of which seem to be in short supply in our world right now. I probably can’t overstate how vital I think this is to the future of the Christian church, especially in the American South, that texts and topics aren’t ‘off-limits’ because they may be heard in political terms, and are, instead, approached with genuine curiosity because the topic (e.g., freedom, work, peace/war, life/Imago Dei) is essential to our faith. It begins, I believe, by deepening our Christian identity, and letting it influence our many other – and (hopefully!) secondary – identity markers. We might begin by examining the allocation of our inputs, how much time we spend sourcing our worldview with Christian faith versus the many other ideologies (national, economic, political) which compete for our allegiance.
Third (and final, for now!) I’ve experienced worship as sacred space marked by expansive grace. That single characteristic -- sacred space defined by grace – has allowed people from all walks of life to gather to pray, praise, confess, grow, and connect with fellow wayfarers on the journey. None of the worship environments suggested a ‘culture of fine,’ though several of them were ensconced in communities of economic privilege. None of them self-declared as ‘traditional’ or ‘contemporary,’ though all the services we attended happened to hew to a more traditional expression. Instead, every service was defined by a sense of the sacred, an experience where people from every age, stage, and station on the journey could encounter the holy and be nourished in a life of faithful discipleship. Every other cultural expectation (dress-code, sexual orientation, marital status, age, ability) was clearly secondary. Again, there was real freedom (and grace and beauty) in this experience, and it left an imprint of quiet joy. I think we do this well at Covenant, and I hope we’ll become even better.
I’ll conclude by saying how nice it is to have what someone called “long, round hours.” It’s almost like being a child again. I’ve read many books, hiked numerous trails, enjoyed sunsets and sunrises, and, of course, delighted in time with family. As I said at the beginning of this now near-tome, it’s a rare privilege, and one for which I’m deeply grateful.
I look forward to seeing you soon and assure you of my daily prayers.
Warmly,
Bob
P.S. Here are a couple of pictures of our adventures, mostly having to do with climbing gorgeous mountains, seeing wildlife, and being healthy!
