Eleven Sundays ago
our church met
for the last time.
We blessed the Lord,
and confessed our sins,
and remembered the gospel.
We sang Rock of Ages,
and heard a sermon from Hosea
about Yahweh going to war with his bride.
Our pastor blessed us,
praying that the Word of God
would go with us
to delight us,
to guard us,
to give hope to our neighbors,
to satisfy our souls.
Ten Sundays have passed since then—
since we sang together,
confessed together,
prayed together,
remembered together,
heard God speak together.
Ten long Sundays since we met.
I hope our church never meets again.
I hope we never gather in that sanctuary again.
I hope we never confess our sins together again.
I hope we never comfort each other in sorrow again.
I hope we never remind ourselves of the world to come again.
I hope Jesus comes again
before we can meet again.