See you on Sunday

Already this week, I've said and heard this phrase countless times. It's only now occurring to me just how much is packed into this seemingly simple adieu. I've said it to a few of our trustees members, a choir member who manages the fair trade store where I was Christmas shopping, those in the young moms' small group, and many others from our congregation.

The statement implies more than I knew. It implies kinship. As we say good-bye, they return to their work and family, and I to mine, but we are acknowledging that we will meet again at our weekly family reunion. "See you on Sunday, my sister." Even if we share very little in common, we share what is most important and most sacred. We are bound together through one Father. Even if we bicker with or annoy each another, we will lift up our voices together, in one place, to worship the one who makes us one.

There is hope in the statement. It's rarely a question, "Will I see you on Sunday?" It is instead a statement made with simple assurance. We hold out this great hope, that whatever is waiting for us in the few days between now and our day of worship, we will be together again. Sometimes tragedy, crisis, or unforeseen events prevent one or the other from attending Sunday worship that week, but we know, in our deepest places, that next Sunday is always coming. Even if the worst should happen, we will meet again where everyday is Sunday.

So, see you on Sunday.