Ushers have long occupied a place of solemn glory in the church—and by “usher,” I don’t simply mean “door greeter” (though these men and women are valuable servants as well). I’m talking about the old-school troop of reverend men who show up in suits every Sunday, keep watch at the sanctuary doors, and—in hushed tones and with sure gestures—direct you to your seat in the house of the Lord.

I suppose part of the reason for my sense of awe at ushers is that my dad was one when I was a little kid—head usher, in fact. On Sundays, he and his fellows directed the seating, the offering collection, and the administration of the Lord’s Supper. In his charcoal grey three-piece, he used to diagram the other ushers’ respective territories and movement patterns with a geometer’s precision (he’s an engineer, so naturally he diagrammed everything).

You can finish reading the rest of the piece at The Local Church. 

Soli Deo Gloria