"The wind blows where is chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." John 3:8

We have a very interesting set of circumstances happening in our church sanctuary. Over the past two weeks, and for yet another one to come, there is a large crane that has been moved in to facilitate cleaning the stonework. Still tarnished by the old coal dust and years of use, dirt and other debris, this is the summer of cleaning. The crane's presence has also necessitated the movement of pews and a general appearance of 'fruit basket upset' in the normally ordered space. This past Sunday all the pews on one side of the church were scrunched together in a picture that looked somewhat more like moving day than a place for worship. Yellow caution tape was strung across doors to keep people from getting into certain doors where the sanctuary seating was rendered unusable.

Most people have been patient and gracious during this process knowing that it won't last long and that the outcome will be worth it. Still, I had to think about what a wonderful metaphor it was for the spiritual journey. Like most churches, people here have their 'regular' pew in which they take up residence each Sunday morning. Sometimes this pew has been 'theirs' for decades, perhaps even passed down from the time they were children and their family sat there. Now none of this is formalized, of course, but just try sitting in their pew and find out what happens! In some ways it would be much easier if we employed the nameplates I've seen in British churches where the family name is printed on a plaque and placed in the pew so as to warn any interlopers. What this all says about hospitality and welcome to guests boggles the mind.

But this past Sunday, most people from a particular section had to move to 'the other side'. What to do? Where to sit? I was not in the sanctuary to see the jockeying about but I am told all went well. I wonder if those who were sitting in an unfamiliar seat had a different experience of the hymns sung, the scripture read. How did the sermon sound from a different pew? Was prayer deeper on the other side of the room? I wonder if people met folks they haven't before or if they recognized someone they hadn't seen in years. I'm sure the stories will be told over the next few weeks that will illuminate these questions.

The spiritual life is full of pew changing, I believe. Sometimes we have taken our place in a seat that has become comfortable, easy to see from, hear from and then comfort leads to complacency. It might be just that time that the Spirit blows through our lives and we are moved to see and hear things from a different perspective, a more challenging or enlivening viewpoint. The Spirit's blowing can also cause us to leave our seats altogether for awhile. Take a break from what's familiar and seek out other traditions or no tradition. Sitting in faith in the same place can sometimes be a wonderful thing and other times can bring a sense of longing, of loss, of a deadness that wants to be reborn.

At the end of next week, the pews will be returned to their normal places. The crane will be removed and, what looked messy and upset, will be orderly once again. It is my hope that those who were displaced this past week might continue to move around the sanctuary looking for new perspectives on their worship life. Like Goldilocks looking for the perfect chair, perhaps some will move from place to place and realize that each section has gifts to offer and that what they thought was the perfect spot really doesn't exist. So it is with the spiritual journey. And in that moving that was forced by cranes and cleaning, perhaps new friendships will be forged as people meet and decide they not only like sitting near one another but that a cup of coffee together, or even dinner, might be equally as great. 

Sometimes the Spirit works in mysterious ways. A screwdriver. A crane. Some rags and buckets of soapy water. Who knows where it will all lead?