The gifts

The kneeler attached to the pew was positively pennetential. The pew itself wasn’t much better. My back is still sore.

It has probably been 15 months since I darkened the door of a church. It has been 3 years since I could call myself a parishioner of anywhere. The liturgy is unchanged, the words rolling off my tongue. I remember the ritual, the places to stand, to sit, to kneel. I can still sing the words of the hymns. I didn’t care for the sermon but that’s always a gamble anyway. As with most Anglican churches I was the youngest by 30 years.

A lifetime of this. Knowing when to stand, to sit to kneel. The responses and the hymns I can recite by heart. All of it, and I struggle to figure out how it all goes together. I am to traditional and to liberal, all at once.

I wonder, thinking of Philip Larkin’s poem. A shape less recognizable each week, a purpose more obscure. Surely Maundy Thursday must be the most obscure. And yet, with all my questions, my misgivings, I find myself like Larkin’s cyclist, bowing my head in awkward reverence.

I still go. At least sometimes.

He is Risen / Risen indeed / Alleluia

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6 Responses to The gifts

  1. loribeth says:

    I haven’t been to church in eons either (I don’t think I even went on Christmas Eve this year with my mother)… but whenever I do, it all comes back! Happy Easter!

  2. Sigrun says:

    Happy Easter, Mr. and Mrs. Spit and pets. ☺

  3. Kristin says:

    He is Risen indeed!

    Happy Easter, Mrs. Spit.

  4. a says:

    I will be in church for the first time in a couple years next week. My niece will be making her first Communion. That’s about all I ever go for anymore.

    Happy Easter!

  5. Barb says:

    Too traditional and too liberal…

    I identify with that. Church has gotten better for us.

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