I usually like sitting up front but we were running late and announcements had already begun so we took the first empty seats we saw. Worship was beautiful as well as communion. We helped distribute and came back to our seats. After prayer, baskets were passed around not to collect an offering but to collect care cards. Earlier during service I had noticed a man I didn't recognize, so I assumed he was new to CVC. My assumptions were proven correct I believe after I witnessed what happened next.
When the basket was passed to him he put in some money. How sweet I thought. The man helping pass the baskets saw him do this too. He took the money out and gave it back to the gentleman. The (new) guy seemed confused and off guard. The other guy briefly explained to him they were collecting cards. I could see the look on the guys face that he was confused and I think felt obligated to give. The man collecting I could see was touched and kind of gave him a "guy" hug. Those awkward kind of lean in-pat on the back things you guys do. It was a nice exchange. It moved me to tears. I almost couldn't stop.
It made me think about the message. God's offering of his only son as our replacement. We have salvation through Jesus. Not because of anything we do or give.
It made me think. How many people come to CVC for the first time and donate to the offering because they feel obligated to do so? Do they get it? Do they understand that we would rather have them give their hearts to Jesus then a few bucks in a basket? Or to give any money only as an act of worship? Do they go home at night and feel satisfied only because they gave money to a church?
It moved me to tears because I was that person for 28 years. I felt satisfied when I attended mass and dropped $5 in the basket. I was content with giving up swearing at Lent and proud that I stuck with it for 40 days.
When I was younger and a big event was happening the next day, I prayed hard the night before. I would say a Hail Mary, an Our Father and ask specifically just for what I wanted to happen. For example. I have a fear of heights and flying. I'm claustrophobic. So my prayer would end like this. "...and please let me have a safe flight going there and coming back." For 2 weeks before my trip that was my prayer. In the plane I would sit in my seat and in my head I would recite the Hail Mary and Our Father over and over again. I wouldn't stop until 2 minutes after the plane took off. Why just 2 minutes you ask? Because I had read somewhere that the first 2 minutes were pivotal to any flight. If a plane was going to blow up or crash it would be in the first 2 minutes. After the 2 minutes, I stopped praying. God saved me.
So that's how I existed for 28 years. I went to mass every Sunday. I observed every tradition, sacrament, every meatless Friday. Without love or thought and a hopeless, empty heart. Without a relationship with Christ.
I developed a relationship with Christ after a devastating breakup with a man who I thought was "the one." When we ended the relationship I was heartbroken and suicidal. I didn't have hope. In my desperation I reached out to Alice who prayed for me and invited me to CVC one Sunday. I agreed. I had nothing to lose.
Walking up the steps to church I thought, "if I leave here today with this same emptiness I'm walking in with I'm going to take my own life." I couldn't take the heartache any longer. It was hurting way too much.
I met Pastor Rick after service that morning. I was shocked that this man was going to take time to meet and talk with me. I thought for sure I was going to get a superficial greeting and a quick handshake. I got the opposite. Rick sat with me and Alice and listened to my watered down story. I didn't share my plans because I didn't want to make a scene. He treated me like I was an old friend. He didn't patronize me. He didn't give me any advice. He listened and he allowed God to work through him. You see, God knew what I needed at that moment. He knew he needed to show up through Rick. I truly gave my heart to Christ that morning when Rick prayed for me. I left CVC feeling loved, hopeful and filled. God saved me. Not because of anything I did or gave. Not because of any repetitive empty prayer or because I earned it. Because He loves me.
So, although I'm not sure where that man's heart is, I'm going to pray that he left CVC filled with hope. Hope in the resurrection of our Savior. Hope in the promise of healing, forgiveness, new life and love that can only be found in Christ. Not through empty prayers, deeds or a few bucks thrown into a basket. I hope that man knows God's love. That would be good.
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