“With the crowd dispersed, he climbed the mountain so he could be by himself and pray. He stayed there alone, late into the night.” (Matthew 14:23)
I sit in the same seat for the Sunday morning worship service. Call me a creature of habit or someone who is set (or sits) in his ways. It’s just what I do. A young military couple sits in front of me and a 95-year-old man sits at the other end of the pew. My wife sits beside me, and my youngest granddaughter chummy’s up on my other side. My seat is my place of reflection, peace, and comfort.
I also sit in the same seat at Starbucks, the last stool on the right facing out toward Pike’s Peak. It’s my blog writing spot (where I am currently sitting). You can tell when I’ve been teaching too much by the absence of blog posts for a while. I like this seat for the view and being able to “pull to the side.”
Jesus had a tendency to find a seat in the secluded, a spot where he was able to be alone and pray. Even on the night when he was facing his death, he went to the Garden of Gethsemane with some of his disciples. A lot of attention is given to their drowsiness, but before we get to that point in the story Jesus has said to them, “Stay here while I go over there and pray.” He drew aside to His spot. His “seat” was one of agony and conviction. He knew He was like a Death Row inmate in his final hours. The seat off to the side gave Him the time and space to come to grips with His purpose and destination.
Years ago I asked a man at the church I pastored why he sat in the same seat each week in worship? In my youthful brashness, I had assumed that he was an older man set in his ways and couldn’t see to do something different for a change. His answer made me feel like an insensitive jerk. The seat where he positioned himself was where he had sat with his son for his child’s growing up years…his son who was killed in Vietnam serving his country. When he sat in his seat, he felt close to his departed child.
Where we sit often has a backstory to it that needs to be told and honored. In our world that has minimal stability and consistency, we are hungry for places to sit, places to rest, and seats for contemplation. When we find that place, its sacredness becomes evident. We recognize it as being a gift. When others invade our space a sense of unrest settles upon us as the peace and quiet disappear.
Even this morning, as I was coming to the end of this blog, three young guys settled in around me and chatted loudly and long. In a way, I felt cheated that my seat had been invaded. They didn’t realize it. The world doesn’t realize it. In a way, it made me appreciate the hour of peace I had been gifted with before they came.
May each of us have some seating and sacred moments this day. Amen.
Words from WW Blog 