by Dan Baumgartner

It’s a Tuesday night, the second Tuesday of the month in fact, which means that the elders and a few staff members of Bethany are meeting for a Session meeting.

Contrary to popular stereotype, these are not dull business meetings that just happen to open with a prayer! We don’t meet around a table. We follow Roberts Rules of Order only when we have to. We pray for our community, delve into scripture, enjoy one another, sing, laugh, meet in small groups, listen for God’s voice and look for what He is doing around Bethany. At least one half of every meeting is devoted to exactly these kinds of things. Sometimes, yes, we also have “business” to talk about like budgets or facilities.

But on this particular Tuesday night in February, we have all gathered in the darkened sanctuary. It’s warm, and only the chancel lights are on low as each of us pick up a small candle like the type used on Christmas Eve. We light them from a large candle on the communion table and then fan out around the sanctuary. There’s no formula. The only assignment is to pray. To pray for what goes on in that room and the people who enter it. It’s totally silent for the next half hour.

The lights of the handheld candles move around the room. Someone is praying over the communion table. Two people are sitting in the balcony. One person moves down the center aisle, lightly touching every single pew. An elder sits on the organ bench, and another stands praying in the pulpit. Someone covers the front corners, praying for people who will request prayer on a Sunday morning in those spots.

The front steps have someone praying for the children who gather there to hear messages and stories. The choir area, the piano, the ensemble space, the worship leader’s lectern all receive prayers. The open space under the vaulted roof, the stained glass window, the welcoming area near the front doors. Quietly Session members move by candlelight through the entire room, praying, praying, praying.

Prayers for worship time on Sundays, that God’s Spirit would move powerfully.

Prayers for individual pews and seats, that the people who sit and worship there would be touched by God.

Prayers for difficult situations and relationships that are broken.

Prayers for protection from evil, for healing.

Prayers for visitors in worship.

Prayers for those who lead.

Prayers for a palpable sense of the Spirit as we gather.

Prayers for the special worship times, and weddings, and memorial services.

Prayer upon prayer upon prayer. The prayers drift soundlessly like a blanketing snowfall. The sanctuary is dusted with prayer, it is coated in every nook and cranny until hymnals, bibles and cross are enveloped in soft prayer.

It’s far from the first time Session has prayed over our community, though never exactly like this. And we are certainly not the first to pray here. Over years and even across generations, various saints have prayed for this congregation, tirelessly asking God to be near. I have heard from so many people who feel the Holy Spirit’s presence in this place and this community, especially in times of worship. I very often feel it myself.

Why? Why does God show up? I don’t know how to parse it all out, but I think it has far more to do with the goodness of God and the mystery of prayer than it does with any particular style or activity. God moves in our presence. We are moved to pray.

The Session members meet at the front, candles still burning and share a dozen thoughts and images that came to them while they prayed. We sing to close, blow out the candles and file back out into the hallway. The door clicks shut. The room is ready for worship on Sunday. The pew seat you will occupy is covered. The supper we share at the table has been given to God. The hymns, songs, baptisms, sermons, testimonies have already been prayed over.

Our prayers have been stacked on top of those from years and months and weeks before.

What will happen? God knows.