Each Sunday service I attend at a beautiful Presbyterian Church nearby ends in a similar way. There is a congregational hymn sung, then the choir gathers at the front and sings the last stanza of that hymn, then the pastor gives the benediction and everyone proceeds down the aisle. But then my favorite thing happens. The organist, Mrs. Reimer, plays some fantastic heaven-inspired piece of music while everyone gets up and starts chatting with neighbors, while deacons and others busy themselves collecting bulletins from the pews, putting away the bells from the bell choir, etc. What I do is I just sit there and listen to the organ music while all this happens. I’m not the only one, but we are by far a minority. The organ music is almost from another world. It is beautiful. As I sit there and listen to this music, watching people do whatever they do, it sometimes almost brings me to tears, not because its sad, but because it seems like a porthole into what is going on in life every day. God’s grace is at work, loudly, beautifully, entrancingly if we pay attention, as our day to day activities keep us busy and occupied– usually distracted from the organ music. The grace almost becomes background as the particulars of the immediate come to the foreground in our lives.
I am thankful for those moments when the veil is lifted and I seem to see clearly for a moment a reality which day to day gets blurred into the background white noise of life.