religious-ish

* as an aside before i begin: i have been maintaining two worlds of writing. this one and the other one. i've come to realize that maybe i feel like my sarcastic, irreverent observations and confessions don't belong on the same page as my sad attempt at religious self-exploration. but what kind of parent does that make me? the truth is that both parts are me. and so, from now on, if i have something scary and remotely religious to say well, i'm gonna say it right here. and one day if my kids ever read this, if they don't kill me first, then they will see all of me.



i hover on the edge of religion. i always have, does that mean i always will? i know that i am continuously drawn to church because i want to want God. i want to rest in my faith. so far, that end does not seem possible. though i was not there to see my grandfather die recently, i heard that he was very much at peace with the idea of death, assured by the fact that he was going to be taken care of, that he was already being cared for as he lay there in the bed dying. and yet as his granddaughter i'd never seen any outward expression of his apparently strong faith. learning that he felt this way while dying surprised and fascinated me. again, i hover, on the edge, watch from the wings, not really understanding the depth of what others seem to understand and experience with ease. all i know is that this attraction never seems to fade and once i show up what holds me is the simple glimpses of sweetness and grace that convince me to return.

last night i attended the ash wednesday service. and while the obvious parts of the service like the bible verses and sermon should have been the things that grabbed my attention, as always it was the little things in between that made me want to weep. i sat at the inside edge of an aisle and while singing the first hymn watched the acolyte walk down the aisle and light the candles with care and precision. well into the second verse but only halfway through the song, she settled into her seat with no hymnal. a woman in the choir, without even flinching, reached around the girl to hand her the hymnal she had been using, pointing to the words we were singing at that moment. the girl took the hymnal and finished the song while the woman fervently faked the rest of the words of the hymn. beautiful.

i looked beyond her at the rest of the choir and saw many familiar faces. i took a moment to realize the effect that many of these people had had on me for so many years. the soprano that often sang with her eyes closed. the tenor who looked as if he could not let even a single note escape his mouth unless it were perfect enough for God. the woman whose husband used to be in the choir. he had died a few years ago and she had since joined. i wondered if she had always wanted to join but didn’t want to take that away from him. was she confident in her vocal abilities? was it just too difficult for her to sit in the congregation and look at the space where he used to be? either way i could not think of anything more courageous than what she had done.

later i watched as a couple i have known for years sang another hymn. we were all seated and our position seemed to dictate the seriousness of the moment and of the subject as well. but all i could focus on was the two of them. as he approached the end of each verse of the song he looked up to sing the last few words while looking into her eyes. she seemed to receive the words with such love, as if she had never before been given something so lovely.

and in just about an hour’s time this is what i saw. never mind what i’d missed. for better or for worse, these is what seems to be my genesis. this is religion for me. for now it is not sermons, it is not bible verses. this, this is how God speaks to me.