The Meeting of the Saints

The saints began to trickle in. Old Mrs. Robinson was a widow from two years into a sweet marriage but has lived alone for the last 47 years. She was making tea and coffee. Peter Frampton (no relation) had also come early and had helped set up the chairs in the rented community hall, ostensibly for the so-called social gathering. Anthony Fresco, a middle-aged bachelor and old-school gentleman, was greeting everyone at the door with a big smile and overwhelming gestures of bowing and addressing the members of the congregation by name and with appropriate comments to the lady's new hair-do, or pretty dress or whatever, making them feel special even though they had heard it all before.

Jonathan and Abagail Albright arrived with a surprise for everybody. They had their two kids in tow! They must have gotten them back from the State very recently, as their kids were very animated and vocal with their parents and happy to be back in the familiar circle of the assembly. The love in that family was sweet to behold. Young George, the autistic fellow who struggled with same-sex attractions, showed up as usual. He had come with Jin Yang, an immigrant from China. They were good friends and shared an evident devotion to Jesus, their greatly loved Lord. They sat with the rest of the teens in the front left side of the sanctuary at the insistence of Jason Bullar, the teen’s overseer.

They came into the space in ones and twos until there were about 80 of them…some poor and struggling and some a little more comfortable, of various races from various continents, and with diverse life stories but singular in their walk with God. It seemed to be a very inclusive group.  Still, more could not attend because they sat in a jail downtown for saying things the State didn’t like. 

They were the Church.

Pastor Phil stood in front of them and appreciated them in return. Philip MacDonald had been in this particular pulpit for 17 years and had seen many come and go, but they were all prayed for and loved as they came and went. His wife would have been there, but she was awaiting a trial for confronting the wrong person outside an abortion clinic. Phil missed her terribly as he led the worship. He kept the singing a little quieter than before to avoid bringing attention to the meeting, but it was still heartfelt and spiritually engaging. 

Pastor Phil then sat down for a short while as Maggie, the church secretary, stood up to take the limited offering, again reiterating as only she can that the blessings of God were on the giver. It was what seemed a long time since they enjoyed the blessings of tax exemption from the State. That was just no longer available. “That has made things difficult.” Pastor Phil said to himself, thinking on that. “There were so many good things the church was doing for the surrounding community that they could no longer do.” He didn’t know how the State would pick up that slack. There were so many needy people within the community where the church building once stood, a few blocks away. That building is now standing empty. 

            Maggie then started to go through some announcements to the gathered congregation. “Diane and Fred need our prayers. They were caught saying something outside one of the new laws again to the wrong people.” She said matter-of-factly with a sigh. “They shouldn’t be in for very long.” Then she continued, “If anyone can spare some food, their boy, young Bill, would sure appreciate some help over that time.” Martha Granville stood up and said, “Send him my way. I’ll look after him; my house is closest to his school.” There were murmurs of acknowledgement and pleasantry all around.

After a few more announcements like that were voiced and accounted for, Pastor Phil got up and stood again in front of the beloved congregation. “We are going to talk about Romans 6 tonight”, he said. “I thought it prudent to leave my bible where I know it is when I want it for my private devotions. We all know that when we take it out, we risk losing it. So, I asked, especially, that John Sentry would make an extra effort tonight, and there he is!” Pastor Phil extended his hand to the right side of the room towards a man seated in the front row, dressed in a bit of a threadbare suit with a subdued tie and polished shoes. Bibles were rare among the faithful after the State banned them, so each had memorized a few chapters of the New Testament, leaving their precious copies hidden at home. Some were working on including the more beloved passages from the Old Testament in their repertoires, which they shared among themselves. John was the “Romans Guy!” and he loved the nickname. It was part of his service to his beloved fellow congregants.

John Sentry stood up and nervously touched his tie to make sure it was straight. Then he made his way to the front to stand with Pastor Phil. After some hand shaking pleasantries between them, Pastor Phil encouraged him by saying, “So, John, if you will, please give us the first four verses of Romans 6.”

John smiled as he considered the verses. It was his obvious joy that one of his chapters had been chosen. As he prepared in his mind to read the scripture, most in the room closed their eyes, doing their preparation work to envision the words that would pour out of his heart and into theirs. 

John began reverently. He spoke the memorized verses with respect and courage, “What shall we say then? Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound?  Certainly not! How shall we who died to sin live any longer in it? Or do you not know that as many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? Therefore, we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.”

John finished his recitation and turned to look at the pastor. They shook hands, hugged, and John sat down. Pastor Phil took up the theme and began to speak of what the “newness of Life” looked like…tasted like…, and acted like. His exposition profoundly moved the congregation. It was a good sermon.

The significant risks all the people had made that night really paid off. Sneaking around to avoid being seen by the authorities while they endeavored to get to the location had made it difficult. But the proof of the pudding, as they say, is in the eating…Well, the evidence of the goodness of the service is if it was worth it in the end, a height that it easily attained with Christ in the centre of the evening. The blessing could only get better if nobody is arrested on their way home. To help accomplish this, the congregation left quietly alone or a few at a time. They slipped into the night and disappeared into the surrounding community until the pastor was the only one left. 

He knelt down to pray into the night for their safety and their continued walk of faith. Then he, too, walked out into the darkness.