What if God was one of us?

Today was the first Sunday in Advent, which means that I've got to do more stuff than usual at church. I spent a bunch of time there yesterday, making sure that the electric candles were working, and then running out to get more when I discovered that they weren't.

But this morning all the pieces were in place. The candlelighter, the dramatic readers, the musicians. The sound/light guy knew what to do.

And despite all our planning . . . things still weren't ideal. There were small things that, had they gone as envisioned, would've made it even more meaningful. At least in my opinion.

But that's the thing. It's never perfect. I have to live with that every time . . . and not only live with it, but realize that the imperfections don't make it worse. Or less meaningful. Because I don't believe that church is most meaningful when it goes exactly according to plan. I believe that if we wanted to, we could show up on a Sunday morning and sit like Quakers, with nothing planned at all, and God could do something. Or everything could go wrong, and we could still get something really important from gathering together.

But what then is the point of the planning? We want to create a vehicle (the worship service) for God to speak through. But it strikes me as a bit arrogant to imagine that we can somehow manage this vehicle. We can pray and work and think, but God ultimately chooses whether S/He shows up. And I don't think that the presence of God can be orchestrated. I really hope that it can't.

So, perfection is illusive and unreachable. And God still shows up, even in the midst of the crap and the screw-ups and the stupid human mess.

Which, if you think about it, is the whole point of Advent/Christmas/the incarnation anyway.