Sunday School

I went to church four times last week, but I never stepped into a church. How did I do that?

No, it’s not one of those logic riddles where the answer is some obscure at first, and then ever so obvious, detail that just leaves you feeling obtuse.

I grew up in a family with a strong faith and a particular religion, it was just who we were. I embraced this all through my teens and young adult years, but then there came a time when I began to question it all. I struggled – still struggle – with the rituals and rules, the politics and practices of this religion. It’s been ten or more years now, that I’ve tried to figure it out; find my own balance with losing my religion and finding my own brand of faith.  There are people I know who have gone on ‘church safaris’, seeking out that perfect place where they feel they fit, where they understand the language and respond to the ritual, a place to call their spiritual home.  I watch on with a bit of envy; but for reasons far too convoluted for today, it’s just not the right time for me to don my khakis, safari hat, serengetti shorts, and traipse all over kingdom come.

While I am not sure which building I would choose to call my home, if given the opportunity  – I do know that I bump into moments of grace in unexpected ways and surprising places.

Divine inspiration?

Bring it!

I was lucky, my mother was a deeply spiritual person, and not bogged down in the stand-up, sit-down business.  I think she had a direct line; or so it seemed. She was focused on what the relationship meant, and how she shared that with others, and more importantly, how she was in the world. And so, by example, I was taught that beyond the traditional confines of the word,  ‘church’ is a community, that we should ‘break bread’ togther, that it’s important to treat others as we wish to be treated, that we are to care for those less fortunate, and that the best way we can ‘praise God’ is by singing { I, of course, am at a distinct disadvantage on this one…}

So, this last week, I went to church four times, but I never set foot in a church.  How is that possible?

Because I  ‘broke bread cheese’ here

Because someone shared the importance of the golden rule

Because I was reminded of what it means to be compassionate to others

Because I experienced the generosity of this community

and because people are singing, all over the world…

more info on how this came to be

And I prayed, and I pray, for the tragedy of lives lost and souls broken in Aurora.

So while I have yet to identify the name of it, I am grateful for, and know that I find faith in places I least expect, when I am open to seeing it. I am not sure if that needs a name or four walls and a steeple.

One place where I know I fit, snug as a bug, and where I feel the grace, is among pine trees, a granite wilderness, and clear blue water.

I will be attending ‘church’ all week…

…and yes, I will pray for you… 🙂

Amen.

And just in case, you really wanted one of those logic riddles…here’s one

What is greater than God,
more evil than the devil,
the poor have it,
the rich need it,
and if you eat it, you’ll die?