Monday, December 18, 2023

“Who is the King of Glory?”

Psalm 24:8

St. Peter Lutheran Church in Hallettsville, Texas was my home church. And it was from that church that so many wonderful things happened for me. It was the place where I got to sing God’s praises and hear the Good News spoken. It was the place where I got to develop relationships and learn about the importance of community. It was there that I got to practice my faith and learn critical skills necessary for survival both as a pastor and as a person. I remain forever grateful for that place.

The church grounds actually had a lot of sacred spaces for me. The church, educational building, and parsonage took up an entire block. A block in that part of Hallettsville may not be as big as a block in some other cities in the world. But it wasn’t a small piece of land, and there were lots of rooms and parts of rooms that continue to bring back many precious memories.

One of those spaces was the basement located just under the sanctuary. In many parts of the country where I have lived since leaving home, basements are common features. Most buildings have them, even if they are unfinished spaces that are used exclusively for storage and utility purposes. But the standard question is, “Where is the door to the basement?” It is not, “Does this building have a basement?” Basements are standard features in many parts of our country.

Basements were not standard in my hometown. We didn’t have one at our home on the farm. My grandmother didn’t have one at her home in town. In fact, I did not know anyone who had one, although I am sure that some existed somewhere in my hometown. But we had one at the church. And that, in and of itself, made it special.

My home church basement was the place where food and fellowship events took place. That’s where the kitchen was located, and that’s where there was enough room for some tables and chairs to be spread out for eating potluck meals (which happens to be one of my favorite church activities of all time). It was the place where the choir would warm up prior to worship so that we could get our voices ready to sing the morning anthem (with quick and easy access to the stairs that took you right into the choir loft). It was also the space where a group of quilters would meet regularly to make blankets for Lutheran World Relief. I got to see them in action on numerous occasions. That ministry remains part of the ELCA tradition. And that makes me very happy. It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed over the last six decades.

But I remember the space more for the activities that took place that were part of my youth group and Christian education experiences. Those times were especially formative and sacred for me.

In fifth grade, we gathered in that space each week during Lent, cooked (with the help of some adult leaders) and shared a meal together, and then spent time talking about what the Lord’s Supper meant to and for us as part of our preparation to receive First Communion on Maundy Thursday – the night in which Jesus shared the Last Supper with his disciples. It was the space where we gathered each year as part of our seventh and eighth grade confirmation program for the annual “Lock In” where we cooked and shared meals, spent time talking about various themes found in Luther’s Small Catechism as part of our preparation for the Rite of Confirmation on Pentecost of our eighth-grade year, watched movies, played games, and, in theory, slept for a few hours before waking up the next day to finish our educational goals for the weekend. It was there where many of our youth group meetings and activities took place – where we planned for future events and participated in planned events. It was there where friendships were formed, where learning took place, and where leadership skills were developed. All those things might have happened, and in fact did happen, at other spaces on that holy block of land in my hometown. But the basement space was that place where those critical parts of my faith development happened in some of the most profound ways.

The Psalm writer asks, “Who is the King of Glory?” It was in the basement of St. Peter Lutheran Church where I got to learn and reflect on that very question, surrounded by people who helped me to discover answers to that critical question regarding the divine. It was there that I learned of the love of God. It was there that I learned about the joy that comes from the gifts of the forgiveness of sins and the promise of life everlasting as they are beautifully revealed for us through the sacraments. It was there that I got to see how Christians give of themselves to make and give things to others because of this King of Glory. It was there that I got to see and experience what fellowship in Christ looks like. The basement was a place of empowerment.

Following my ordination in the sanctuary at St. Peter on June 24, 1990, all of those who were at the worship service went downstairs into the basement and gathered, one more time, to help me to celebrate, to allow me a time to give thanks for their presence and their influence, and to be empowered in yet another way for the new journey that I was about to face as an ordained pastor. The basement at my home church was, and remains, a special place, indeed.