What is Church? Pt. 1

The large question I think many of us have been facing is where do we find the Holy or get connected with the divine? For most of my life my “Holy Place” was Church. In the past year, many churches had to close their Sunday morning worship doors to keep folks safe. But long before the pandemic, I stopped attending Sunday Morning worship. Instead I opted for the 30-45 minute Eucharist option of week day services. There are many reasons for this, but what I think it comes down to is that I stopped experiencing the Holy in the Sunday Morning ritual and realized that there are many places where we encounter the divine.

No disrespect to those I worshipped with, but Church felt like work in ways that weren’t life giving. There were requests to join committees or run some ministry that didn’t match my skills. As an event planner, I was never asked by a congregation I attended to plan an event, even when I volunteered. However, I was repeatedly asked to teach Sunday School or the lead the youth group… Those who know me, know that is not my ministry. The elder teatime/Bible Study group – totally in my wheelhouse. But I digress. The sermons were fine, the music was fine, the people were great, but I struggled with the contradictions of sitting in an opulent building that rarely opened its doors during the week for “non-worship” activities.

As I left church and joined friends for brunch or watched folks gather for protests or took a walk through the park, my connection to the divine is engaged. There are three recent Eucharist experiences I had that have just reinforced for me that gathering on Sunday morning is not really my jam.

1. I came out of the subway in midtown and walk past the unhoused as they start the morning rituals many of us engage: coffee, personal hygiene, planning the day, etc…. As I arrive at the beautiful edifice of this Church I know does a great deal of homeless ministry and a large endowment, I couldn’t help but feel the contradictions in my veins. The church was still closed because of the pandemic, but as a friend of the preacher, I was allowed to show up and participate in the live stream recording from the sanctuary. Visually it was beautiful, the sermon was great, the music enticing and familiar. But I felt cold and confused. How could I not see this asset and resource and wonder what Jesus would say if he had just taken the same walk I did from the streets to the “Church?”
   
   This is no disrespect to the church. Their hospitality was lovely, everyone was kind and loving. But I couldn’t take my mind off those who were not allowed through the doors.
   
2. My friend invited me to Vermont to be a part of the birthing event. It was amazing and transformational (definitely not having a kid now though). She was due on the Thursday when I arrived in town, but on Sunday when I woke up, there was still no baby or contractions. I scrolled around to see if there was a service I could attend. The cathedral (I attended the parish when I lived in VT from 2006-2010) was having one of its first gatherings since the pandemic began. As I drove up nervous that I wouldn’t be allowed in, my sense of fear was assuaged with welcoming faces that invited me to add my name for contract tracing purposes. We sat outside, distanced with masks on. It was humble and welcoming and warm. Perhaps it is because it was a group of us and community singing is healing. Perhaps it was seeing they eyes of folks who helped spiritually raise me or something else… But it felt good to be there, to be hugged and to know that the sanctuary that remained closed to worship was opened to a clinic that took place each Friday for BIPOC folks to get trusted medical care.
   
3. My music camp friends were house-sitting next door to Apple Hill Center for Chamber Music. For me this property is thin space (a term I learned from Paulo Coelho). Thin Space are those places where you can feel the conflation of the temporal and transcendent. You can feel it in your bones when you are in this kind of holy space. I spent a week with my friends of 20 years. During our eight days together we hosted four – eight person meals. Even from our first evening together as we sat down, I said grace. It was an overwhelming feeling that we were doing something holy and needed to honor and recognize that. I don’t usually say grace… I assume God knows I am grateful. Each meal and conversation and gathering felt blessed and Holy. One of my friends doesn’t even believe in God, but he is the best Christian I know.

What to take from these three experiences is something that I have been hearing from friends, colleagues, and acquaintances for a while now: Church isn’t where I meet God. And that breaks my heart. But I totally understand and I often agree. There are a couple of places to go from here… What do we mean by Church and why does it matter? What might the church learn from the world and how do we see the church as the world? What would it take for Church to feel like Church again or Where are folks meeting God and how can the Church show up there? Do they need to show up?