Yesterday, I walked to an unexpected church service in the Valley of the Sun. We parked our car early on that overcast morning, grateful for the clouds. Even at 7AM Phoenix can be a warm place. As we stepped out of our truck, across the dirt lot and onto the sidewalk we were joined by others headed in the same direction. Crossing 99th and Glendale more congregants joined the group and soon a long line stretched down the sidewalk. Where the sidewalk ended and dirt began, we continued – feet clad in heels, boots, sandals – all headed to the same place. The closer we drew to our destination, the bigger the crowd grew. This was reminiscent of life in America fifty years ago, when Sunday was always church day and families walked to their local church.

I have not seen so many men in suits in years….women in dresses, others dressed in tattoos and sandals, some dressed in patriotic clothing, all with the same goal. We were headed to a remembrance and a celebration. Turning a corner we reached our destination and joined the thousands already there. It is not often that we are able to view a cross section of humanity gathered together, but there we were. waiting, waiting to honor a martyr. It was, in a sense, our pilgrimage to honor a hero of the faith. We would walk distances and stand in the heat for the opportunity to spend time in remembrance and appreciation for a life well lived and a martyr’s sacrifice. In this moment we were united in both our grief and our admiration.

After several hours of waiting and moving slowly forward, we were able to enter the air-conditioned stadium – a great relief. Now, with two hours to wait for the service to begin we watched the stadium continue to fill and knew that nearby another stadium was housing congregants too. The music of the musicians filled the arena as we waited for the official service. Around me some sang, some prayed, some simply sat quietly thinking of the day and its importance. We are allowed our different forms of worship and contemplation.

And then the presenters began to speak. As each speaker stepped forward it seemed we drew closer and closer to God. Could it really be that our governmental officials were unabashedly proclaiming that Christ is the answer? As each cabinet member stepped forth and testified – actually gave testimony – to the remarkable life of Charlie Kirk, I sat in amazement. Could this really be our government officials proclaiming that Christ is the only way, giving the whole story of the creed – the virgin birth, sinless life, death, burial, and resurrection that makes possible a life in heaven? These are the leaders of MY country. Oh ye of little faith; I would never have believed this could happen.

Then the reminder of the prayer, our Lord’s prayer, ‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive the trespasses of others.’ laid before us by a widow with a broken heart. It was too much to comprehend and yet…..God. He gives the strength for the forgiveness we will never be able to extend on our own. His truth is good and beautiful and He gives the grace to go on.

When the service ended and we left the stadium, we were strangers united by a common bond, united by Christ, walking to our cars, returning to our homes. Our lives have been touched by the example of a martyr. We must never forget. May we be kind and good and never deny our Savior in the midst of it all. The Arizona sun shone brightly and we knew in our hearts that we had been to church in the newly minted Valley of the Son.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Praise Him all creatures here below. Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

AMEN