Lone Voice

I feel like the canary in the mine or maybe the lone voice crying in the wilderness. Crying in church. Crying for the Church.

I cry for the elder who gives his toddler his individual cup after Communion and then allows her to drink the left over Blood before placing it in the collection basket.

I cry for the church service where the candles were not lit at all. Why? I never found out. Maybe the elders realized too late and didn’t want to disturb worship by stepping up to the alter. I hope that’s it.

I cry for the elder extinguishing the candles with his babies diaper bags hanging on his shoulder. Was that wrong? Probably not, but it sure showed a lack of respect for the Alter.

I cry for my church that backed off every Sunday Communion to every other Sunday. They have now changed it back starting next Sunday but no public announcement. Why’s that? Are we trying to sneak it in hoping no one will notice?

I cry for the Remnant that stayed for the Body and Blood of our Savior after the non-Communion Sunday worship.

I cry for the lack of attendance by the elders at these post worship Service of the Sacrament.

I cry for the treatment of the Body and Blood (bread and wine) after Communion service. Concentrated elements mixing with un-concentrated elements. The disposable individual cups thrown out without rinsing. Tossing the precious Blood into the trash. The lack of respect for all things Church.

It would seem like I do a lot of crying. Maybe I’m too High Church. No, that’s not it. This is all supremely important to me. This lack of respect tells me that people don’t care. Don’t care about God. Just going through the motions on Sunday morning.

A lone voice crying in the wilderness. All alone.