CREEDE HINSHAW: Timeline of a four-day worship service

The worship service lasted four days.

Or maybe I’m playing with words. Maybe I should describe it as a worship service that stretched over the course of four days. Or maybe it wasn’t a worship service at all. You can help me decide.

The service I’m writing about started at 9 a.m. last Sunday. Or maybe it began at 11:00 a.m. last Sunday. That depends on whether one measures the time by Mountain Standard Time or Eastern Standard Time.

Technically, the service began – as always – at 11 a.m. EDT in the sanctuary of the Mulberry Street United Methodist Church in Macon. But my wife and I were in Denver visiting a son and daughter-in-law, and at 9 a.m. MDT I clicked on a livestream version of the worship service while sitting in an armchair, cup of coffee at my side, the rest of the household slowly stirring, thus my uncertainty as to when the service “began.”

At about 35 minutes into what was an inspiring service, the rest of the Denver household came to life. I began to enjoy the aroma of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. The dog nuzzled up against my armchair. People moved in and out of the den while my friend Tommy — in Macon — was preaching from the Gospel according to Mark, the passage where the scribe asks Jesus about the greatest commandment.

Just about the time my pastor friend was building up a good head of preaching steam, I paused the service. Breakfast would soon be on the table. A cup of Americano was waiting, and the morning’s activities were to be planned.

Before I knew it, Sunday was over. And then Monday came and went. Tuesday saw a travel day; we put on our masks at 8 a.m. (MDT) and didn’t remove them until 6:15 p.m. (EDT). Back in our own house, my wife pulled together a meal and we sat in front of the television cheering on the Braves until midnight, falling happily into our own bed at an hour much later than these retirees usually see.

I awoke early Wednesday morning, fixed my coffee, sat in my familiar armchair, read my Bible and found the livestream worship service to finish what I’d begun in Denver four days ago.

Tommy was still in the pulpit, at least virtually. The choir was still in the choir loft, and the organist was still playing. I found the approximate place where I had left off a thousand miles, four days and two time zones ago and finished the worship service.

But was it a worship service at all? Should a person describe the experience as having been a livestream service when it hasn’t been live for four days? Furthermore, would it be accurate to describe oneself as having attended a worship service at all?

To worship God can mean many different things, and I’m grateful for the way technology can multiply the worship opportunities. But this 70-something prefers to worship in one time zone, thank you, in a real building surrounded by real people and facing a real preacher.