Dear Five O' Clock Friends,
Years ago, maybe the spring before I left for seminary, Father Brian (our rector at the time) told a story about a conversation he once had with his barber. His barber asked him, "Why go to church at all?" I can't remember Brian's answer, but I haven't forgotten the question. It's a question we all need to grapple with--not once but often in our lives as individuals and as a community of faith. I suspect that each of us will come up with different answers to that question. I know that my answers have changed over the years. Maybe yours change too.
Years ago, maybe the spring before I left for seminary, Father Brian (our rector at the time) told a story about a conversation he once had with his barber. His barber asked him, "Why go to church at all?" I can't remember Brian's answer, but I haven't forgotten the question. It's a question we all need to grapple with--not once but often in our lives as individuals and as a community of faith. I suspect that each of us will come up with different answers to that question. I know that my answers have changed over the years. Maybe yours change too.
For years, church was at the center of my life. It was the place where Imost felt loved and accepted for who I was--the little girl dodging Sunday School by climbing out a window and heading off to the ice cream parlor; the early adolescent challenging the pastor at every turn; the teenager finding her niche teaching Sunday School to developmentally delayed kids; the young adult circling back to the community every so often for a dose of its love and acceptance. For me, church wasn't about faith or belief--it was about being loved, about being accepted, about being a part of a community.
Like many young adults, I wandered far from church. It had no hold on me and little to offer. Or so I thought. Until I needed solace. Until I needed peace. Until I needed an hour in the pew. An hour away from all that was eating at my soul. The moment would pass and I would return to my busy life never really wondering what might feed my soul. Never really even thinking about my soul.
Like many young adults, I wandered far from church. It had no hold on me and little to offer. Or so I thought. Until I needed solace. Until I needed peace. Until I needed an hour in the pew. An hour away from all that was eating at my soul. The moment would pass and I would return to my busy life never really wondering what might feed my soul. Never really even thinking about my soul.
Then we moved to New Mexico--the place we then and now call home. I went looking for a place where my husband and I could grow old; for a place where we, like the people who had loved and accepted me so long ago, would be welcomed; for a place where we could be part of a community of love and acceptance. I shopped and shopped and shopped for a church to call home. One Sunday, a friend took me to St. Michael's--the old St. Michael's. Just a little parish church. A big barrel of a man ushered me in. As I sat in silence before church began, the place began to work its magic on me. I was finding peace. I was finding solace. And then I heard the words of the communion prayer,
"Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in his name."
A seed was planted. I began to yearn for something more. Something more than solace. Something more than peace. More even than community. In retrospect I'd say I was yearning to be part of the Body of Christ. That's why I go to church. Worshipping together, working together on committees, cleaning up the church, weeding the garden, serving at St. Martin's, living out our faith one challenge, one delight, one awkward moment at a time is how we grow into the Body of Christ we are called to be.
I don't remember the words or examples Brian used in answering that question "Why church", but I do remember the core of his answer--"You can't be a Christian on your own; Christianity is not a solitary sport."
"Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in his name."
A seed was planted. I began to yearn for something more. Something more than solace. Something more than peace. More even than community. In retrospect I'd say I was yearning to be part of the Body of Christ. That's why I go to church. Worshipping together, working together on committees, cleaning up the church, weeding the garden, serving at St. Martin's, living out our faith one challenge, one delight, one awkward moment at a time is how we grow into the Body of Christ we are called to be.
I don't remember the words or examples Brian used in answering that question "Why church", but I do remember the core of his answer--"You can't be a Christian on your own; Christianity is not a solitary sport."
You and I, this part of the Body of Christ we call Live at Five, need oneanother just as St. Michael's needs us in order to be the part of the Body of Christ we are called to be. We need each other. We need each other's gifts, each other's insights, each other's ways of challenging one another. We need one another as we stretch into being Christ's heart in this world.
Peace.
Susan+
Susan+
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