Before we arrived, the main bit of All Saints, where we meet as church, was just a photograph in the information. It was stretched out wide, so it looked like a vast army of empty chairs facing the cross.
When we first encountered it at ‘work’, it was split into zones with masking tape, had boot footprints stuck on the floor, and was a place of imagination and encounter for youngsters and oldies alike in the first Holiday Club.
This evening it has been a night club, as well as a traditional school playground. Both effectively.
Ladies move gently in there on Wednesday afternoons, and more ferociously on Zumba nights.
It has equipment, musicians, people with technical eyes and ears and time, with voices, to make it a a cathedral of sound.
It has people with love, people with imagination, people with memories, and it itself is lodges in people’s psyche.
At the moment, with those chairs back in place lined up before the cross, it is resting.
Other rooms in the building are just as significant, in just the same way I’ve described.
Deliquescence. It means the capacity to soak up moisture without physically appearing to change.
Come and be deliquescent for God on Sunday. Come and inhabit the room with expectation/openness/honesty for God to soak in. You will leave without appearing to have changed. But be filled.
Open for sponges of every type.