"We had church today!"

The title of this post are the words a retired priest, and longtime parishioner of our small but mighty church, says at the end of every Sunday Eucharist. And sometimes when we are missing her presence, I'll say them. At the end of a Sunday, a year or two ago, I asked for her permission to speak those words, and her response indicated that no permission was necessary. I decided that in her absence, I'd honor her by saying, "As Mother would have said, we had church today!"

. . . . .

I read the passage from Hosea today, and before doing so, mentioned to a friend, "Oh my goodness, while practicing, the number of times I had to say whoredom in one breath was a bit much. And I tried really hard not to overemphasize the first syllable the few times I read aloud." We chuckled a tiny bit.

Some of the prophets are harder to read than others. Like, what is god doing in that passage, some wondered? There were audible breaths from the congregation at the end of the lesson. And like some priests who try to link all the readings together, our lovely visiting priest today focused solely on the gospel.

I haven't read all the books of the prophets. It is still a goal, a desire, and a need for me to read the Bible in Urdu that I inherited from my father, among his Urdu and Punjabi poetry collections.

. . . . .

The gospel reading from Luke, where Jesus teaches his followers how to pray, also contains the words that will always remind me of Nāniji (maternal grandmother)

So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. Luke 11:9 (NIV)

May there never be a time when those words do not remind me of her. Nāniji, by the time I finally got to meet her, was blind. If I recall what Mum told me, correctly, my eldest sibling was the last grandchild she would be able to see while she still had her eyesight. She could recite the Psalms from memory as well as most if not all of the New Testament, and possibly even more. Mum shared that while her parents were always churchgoers, at some point, her mother received a vision that brought her to her knees, and from that point onwards, she dedicated her life to being more devout, to being of greater service to her community. She gave away all the colorful, brocaded saris that Nānāji bought for her, to his consternation, at first. She preached at church services as a lay person.

Whenever I would see her during holidays, or when she stayed with us after Nānāji joined the ancestors, she would be seated on her bed, dressed in her white sari, reciting passages, and the one that has always stuck with me is part of the one quoted above, "Dhōndoge tau pāoge, darwāzah khatkhatāo, tau khula jāyega - Seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you.

As I grew older, and ventured further away from church, and Mum would continue to tell these stories, it occurred to me, that with her upbringing, and where she was, Nāniji was more likely the conservative evangelical Christian my questioning "progressive" self would have walked away from. But as a child, her faith made a huge impression on me. If I could have had an iota of what she did, in the face of her challenges, would I have navigated through my troubled childhood better than I had?

I was 13 when Nāniji left this temporal world, and am so thankful for the little time I got to spend with her. May her memory forever be a blessing.

. . . . .

One of the things I really appreciate about Substack is reading posts by priests, former monks, theologians who have walked away from their evangelical churches in search of Radical Christianity, believers who want to bring Mary Magdalene back to the fore, the heart of Christianity based on The Gospel of Mary. I eavesdrop (via comments) on conversations which are thought-provoking. Like what if Peter had not disrupted Mary Magdalene's teachings as received from Jesus? What would Christianity have looked like, felt like? And not that I wasn't already aware of this, but The Way may not be as straight and narrow, as some of us grew up learning it was or should be. Perhaps I'm expressing that thought baldly, for now, or being the "heretic" that some may think I am just being Episcopalian (ahem!).

I was trying to say something in my previous post that I couldn't find the words to express, and it may have sounded like I wanted to leave church, and just be a contemplative monastic-like ascetic, alone. And if I did give that impression to whoever is still reading my sometimes addled writings, I don't know if I will be any more helpful here, or even if I need to be:

I've attended churches of various denominations. I was baptized and raised as a Methodist. I was chrismated in the Greek Orthodox Church. I am now an Episcopalian. I believe the Holy Spirit has guided me throughout my journey, but I left two of these churches because of moments where bigotry trumped love. Prior to returning to church, when I began learning about Nichiren Buddhism thanks to a Ghanaian friend who invited me to go to meetings with her, some of what I read in pamphlets was something I already grasped and believed through my readings of the gospel. So when I was invited to consider joining Soka Gakkai, I kindly declined. Because even though I wasn't attending church, I was not ready to stop being Christian - and no matter what certain people say, I don't think I ever stopped. I never even considered I could do both. But let me not continue with this, because I'm gliding further away from my intention.

There are reasons why I want to distance myself a bit more from hierarchical church structures and be more into contemplative, mystical union, either in a community, or not. I am not going to mention or explain those reasons much, except to say that certain church structures continue to throw wrenches in our worship. And there's no blame attached to anyone in particular regarding my feeling about this. I'm not going to stop going to church altogether, or leave a community that I do feel more a part of. But I also feel pulled in another direction, that is not altogether in opposition to parochial worship. Most if not all Sundays are still reserved for Eucharist at church. I am still the main operator of our Substitute Organ Service, and as such I feel committed to not abandoning that. I know that not all members are keen on using an IPad to play the organ, but I also know that I cannot be the only one doing this on Sundays, and someone will need to remember all the steps, the main one being, make certain the organ is powered up!!!

This morning was hard. And I'd forgotten how hard it was UNTIL I got home from church. I slept poorly than usual last night. I couldn't sleep at first. I was in bed, breathing in, and out, tossing and turning, even the Jesus Prayer didn't give me the solace it always does. I'm not sure if it was the massive dose of caffeine I had in the morning, or an overdose of anxiety. But when I woke up this morning, I was so tired that I seriously considered not going to church. I wanted to go back to sleep. Three things: 1) I was scheduled to be one of the lectors, 2) The Substitute Organ Service, 3) our visiting priest, who is such a joy and revs us up big time. The sermon he gave on prayer today was something I really needed. By the time the service began, I'd totally forgotten I didn't want to be there!

We did have church today! And I thought I was going to go back to bed when I got home, but I'm here, still, spiritually nourished, but needing actual roTi now (not literally, since I have none). 😀

Please keep Gaza and the West Bank in your prayers, or whatever approximates prayer for you. And contact your representatives, and anyone who will listen.

Peace! 💜