Sunday worship

Oddly enough, it is Sunday and also my day off, which is so odd, because I can’t recall the last time I had a Sunday off. The day began in a wonderful way on Saturday night. I went to the Staff sing on Saturday evening, yes, I know me singing. But they needed more deep voices, and I certainly qualify. So it was a good bit of fun, until that is I was informed that we were singing in the Abbey for Saturday evening service. Let me simply say the acoustics in an ancient Abbey can do wonders for the not so melodious voice. It was an excellent bit of fun. Worship is at 10:45 Sunday morning, so I felt a bit like a lazy slugabout not getting on the move early but it was grand sleeping in a bit. And the morning assisted as it was gray and dreary. Our guests in the Mac don’t arrive until Monday, so there is a shortage of people to volunteer to assist in worship, therefore, I was able to assist with communion this morning. Essentially I ushered in the Abbey, doing both the collection and offering bread. A wonderful tradition of the Abbey is that on Sundays you are given an oatcake as you leave the church, and asked to give it to someone that you have just met, hence continuing the communion table into the world. What a deacon like thing to do! Sunday lunch is a very important meal, it is typically the first big meal that our new guests received. All the Mac staff are eating in the Abbey until our guests arrived, and it was a banquet. We had pork meatballs with apricot sauce, broccoli, beets and roasted tatties (potatoes). And for pudding (desert) we had pastry puffs with cream cheese and chocolate sauce. Certainly a nap would seem in order. But I gathered up my energy and walked to the Machair, to sit on the stony beach and gaze out at the Bay at the back of the ocean, which oddly enough faces North America (more Nova Scotia than the U.S.). It had turned into such a lovely day. The oyster crackers, a small black sea bird with a long orange beak designed to crack oysters, were screaming that I was too close to their nest. Eventually they calmed down. Evening worship on Sunday is a quiet service, literally. There is a brief introduction, a prayer is begun and then you are to pray in silence in this ancient place, with all these new friends. It is moving. And holy. And last night someone was offering snores to God. This is a thin place.