Going to church yesterday as a Christian who was raised Jewish
My visceral grief after the murders in Pittsburgh made me feel like a stranger in my own congregation.
Yesterday I went to the church where I have worshiped and worked on and off for the past 20-plus years, and I was lost.
Not physically lost, of course. The contours of the sanctuary are so familiar, I could probably give a tour to a stranger who wandered in. Instead, unexpectedly, I felt as if I was the stranger. I didn’t like the sensation at all.
It wasn’t for lack of affection given or received. Part of what I love about this congregation is how motley it is, embracing an array of people with diverse beliefs on everything from liturgical practice to same-sex marriage. Attend the 11 o’clock in the original sanctuary and hear a traditional Episcopal Rite II service, complete with choir. Walk over to the newer church and experience a less formal service and a lot of folks praying with raised hands and lustily singing praise music.
