Revivals and Reunions... Homecoming for the Soul

My little country church, which did not follow the liturgical calendar, had two annual events that along with Christmas and Easter, shaped our church year... Homecoming and Revival. Only now am I coming to appreciate their importance in my spiritual life.
Revivals were held in the fall. Crops were in. The new school year had begun. There was a sense of new beginnings, an expectancy for what was to come along with the recognition of all that had been left undone or done wrong the year before. Our revivals began on a Sunday morning with the visiting preacher holding forth in the pulpit followed by "dinner on the grounds". Some preachers were better than others. Some were long winded. Some were loud and long winded. Some were really good. Some were awful. Some loved hellfire and damnation preaching and others were loving kindness. It didn’t much matter. We came anyway, sat in our pews, brought friends, prayed for those who needed to find God, sang "Just As I Am"for the invitation hymn, hummed "Just As I Am" with our eyes closed and heads bowed while the preacher exhorted those laggards to come, shook hands and hugged, welcomed new believers, shared our lives with each other. Women in the church volunteered to provide meals for the visiting preacher and the revival team ( our preacher and the music director). Dinner and supper were provided...fried chicken and gravy, ham, mashed potatoes, potato salad, deviled eggs, home grown green beans and creamed corn and sliced tomatoes, pickled peaches and cucumbers, homemade coconut cake and lemon meringue pie, yeast rolls and biscuits. At the end of the revival, regardless of the preacher’s competence or lack thereof, we felt renewed. If we had taken the revival process seriously, we had done a spiritual inventory and seen our souls as honestly as possible. Some of us may have been moved to re-dedicate our lives publicly. Some of us had made halting confessions in front of the congregation and asked for prayers and support as we moved in a new direction. We were given the grace of a second or fortieth chance. Lent and Easter in the space of one week...
Now, after sixty plus years of mistakes, I know how important revival is for the soul. We grow covered over with our daily living, our souls get crusty and tough. Revival was an in-your-face, kick your butt, don’t ignore me experience. By showing up we were forced to examine and consider our own shortcomings, our gifts, the state of our relationship with God through Jesus, the condition of our souls. I can laugh and tease about the form and sound and rituals of those revivals then. But revival is a necessity for me now.
The second tradition was Homecoming in the summer. Everyone came that Sunday. Even if you had left the church mad, you came. If you had moved to town and changed church membership, you came. Children came home with grandchildren in tow and folks you hadn’t seen since Easter showed up that Sunday. There was special music... duets and trios and quartets, choir specials... testimonies and prayers of thanksgiving, a church house packed full of church family with food waiting for the celebration feast afterward.(see list above).Worship was always fun and spontaneous with surprises lurking everywhere. Laughter, tears, hugs, noisy children, courting teenagers, new babies, vacant spaces in families death had visited since the last homecoming...all of life showed up for homecoming. For one glorious day, all the cares of church life were laid aside and we simply celebrated our connections to one another and to God. At the end of the meal, we would sometimes gather back in the church for a "sing". Led by our music director, sometimes with a visiting gospel quartet, we sang our souls out. Late afternoon would see us leaving the church grounds, sleepy children in tow, with full stomachs and hearts overflowing with joy and gratitude.
No wonder the old timers called death "homecoming". What a beautiful image for life after death. For one day, one small slice of time, all cares and angers and worries and fears laid to one side. All that has been done and is yet undone left behind as you enter the doors of the church. And what waits for you is an extravagant welcome home, even if you were just there last Sunday or if you haven’t been in years or if you were mad the last time you came. All that matters is that you are present and home... home for hugs and messy red lipstick kisses and hearty handshakes and food for the stomach and the soul... "My life flows on through endless song; Above earth’s lamentation I hear the sweet though far off hymn that hails a new creation: Through all the tumult and the strife I hear the music ringing; It finds an echo in my soul. How can I keep from singing?’