Worshipping Latvian Style

Today I preached in Latvian ... well, not really ... I preached in English and Carliss (the young translator) translated it into Latvian.  But I felt like I was preaching in Latvian.  I told a lot of stories in my sermon and I felt the connection.  As I concluded the sermon with a gripping tale of a young girl whose little brother was very sick I saw many in the congregation wiping away the tears.   That particular story has always made me cry. I guess we are not that different, after all. 

After the sermon we celebrated Communion together.  The pastor and I and two of his deacons sat at the table on the platform and served from there.  While the people sang we washed our hands and then literally broke the bread into pieces.  The people lined up to come receive the bread and the cup.  We used real wine.  I think I saw several of our church members come back for seconds.  It is awesome to fly half way around the world and find people who are a lot like you.  They love God. They love their family. They love their church.  They love their Lord. Of course, there are cultural differences -- language, food, housing, transportation, dress -- but those are cosmetics.  When you get to the things that are most important we are not that different, after all. 

After lunch we travelled two hours north to Cesis, the second oldest town in Latvia (I was told by the pastor), and we worshipped in an historic Lutheran church.  It was built 800 years ago by the Catholics.  About 500 years ago the Lutherans took over the building.  This country is filled with old, historic cathedrals.  Many of them are now museums.  A few, like this one, still serve as places of worship.  It was a moving time of worship.  A lot of music. I was charged with giving a greeting and brief word of encouragement.  I was going over (in my mind) what I was going to say by way of greeting and encouragement.  I was wearing a suit and tie, which was no match for how cold it was getting in that old cathedral. The longer the service went, the colder it grew and the colder it grew the shorter my greeting got (in my mind).  By the time my turn came I was freezing to death.  I don't remember what I said.  I hope they didn't hear my teeth chattering.  Whatever I said ... it didn't go very long.

I had a great time ... and eventually thawed out ...
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