The image tickles my ribs and makes me smile. In a recent note, Stephen Bouman, bishop of the Metropolitan New York Synod, recounts worshiping with pastors at a retreat (see page 32). As the gifts were gathered for communion, some of the pastors danced to a beautiful setting of Psalm 23. Bouman describes them as young and old, African American and white, short and tall, men and women, graceful and awkward. "Their faces were beatific," he wrote.
I can see them in my mind's eye — especially the awkward ones who make me giggle because they remind me of my histrionic waltzes to the elevator late on Friday afternoons. But my laughter bears no derision, only the joy of belonging to the same people of God, serving the same loving Lord as these servants.
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