in the field

Our church sanctuary is having a much needed renovation.  In the meantime, Sunday services are being held in a huge tent in the ball field used for Upward Soccer and Upward Football.  There are golf carts for those needing assistance from Sunday School classrooms to the ‘Church in the Field’.  There’s a huge supply of old-timey hand fans and cold bottled water, standing oscillating fans set up in strategic places to move air around, and song sheets.

My favorite thing was the overall environment.  It was relaxed, with casual clothing, and I’m sure people were smiling more than usual.  I don’t remember ever going to a church service in a tent.  But, I really liked the setting (despite the sweat...).  We sang hymns.  I love contemporary Christian music, but I also love the old hymns.  Today, I enjoyed:  In the Sweet By and By, Standing on the Promises, Rock of Ages, and Amazing Grace.  Nice.  The sermon was from Psalm 22.  I could hear the occasional ‘caw-caw’ from crows.  After all, we were in the field.

I admit, I did get distracted for a few minutes.  There’s a song I love dearly.  It’s on a cassette tape my sister gave us years and years ago (later transferred to a CD).  The album is ‘Evening Tapestry’, and the song is ‘Church in the Field’, and that’s where my thoughts drifted...

Church in the Field

The sky was one vast ceiling that vaulted out and on

Down to starry stain glassed windows of sunsets and of dawns

An out of doors cathedral day by day revealed

I remember church in the field

I remember church in the field

The rain fell like a sacrament on the alter of the soil

And mixed with sweat that fell from hands content with honest toil

The faith of spring saw harvest that seeds and earth would yield

I remember church in the field

I remember church in the field

There were blazing colors

There were lovely smells

I encountered passions my poetry can't tell

Mere religion hadn't tamed me yet, my reverence was all real

I remember church in the field

I prayed there without thinking

I worshiped from no cue

The flashing summer thunderstorm

And wild roses fresh with dew

And to mysteries and music always just concealed

I remember church in the field

I remember church in the field

There were blazing colors

There were lovely smells

I encountered passions my poetry can't tell

Mere religion hadn't tamed me yet, my reverence was all real

I remember church in the field

Written by Phill McHugh