I actually love our little church with its super liberal, multi racial, multi faith, gender fluid, artsy, academic, streetwise, non-proselytizing and gloriously oddball congregation. Everyone comes as they are, even the agnostics, and feels seen. Though I had been inside the sanctuary maybe once since Covid lock downs started in March 2020, I went last week for Palm Sunday, as my husband was playing the role of Pontius Pilate and also the soldier who takes Jesus from the Garden of Gethsemane in the passion play. It was a serious piece of theater, directed by a vestry member who is a university professor of the performing arts in her other life, and she meant for her passion players to do the material justice.
Last year, she and my husband sat around our dining table for many many hours taping the passion play as a piece of Zoom theater. This year, it is once again live, as everything is now reopened, and I figured I should go and support my husband, after all his stories about our friend Celia (the director) looking into the actors' eyes and asking intently, "What do you think this person is really trying to say here? From where do you think this arises inside them?" Or questions of that sort. My man did a wonderful job of emoting, as did all the players. When I walked in at the start of the service, Celia came over and hugged me and then issued a warning: "Don't you dare wave at your husband while he's on stage." "I wouldn't dream of it," I assured her.
The thing that was so lovely about last week Sunday was that even though I had been so scarce for almost two years, everyone welcomed me as if I was a part of it all, and I remembered what my Aunt Winnie used to say about that church. Back when our son was born, and my husband was looking for a place to have him baptized (he hadn't established a New York City faith home yet), Aunt Winnie sent him to investigate a little Harlem church where the White minister was a member of the Black Panther Party, and had marched with Dr. King (and played the role of Tom Hanks father in the movie Philadelphia) and where Aunt Winnie said, "No matter how long I stay away, they always remember my name."
So it's Easter. My husband rose bright an early to go down to the flower district and choose his blooms, as he always creates the altar arrangements for this day, in honor of his parents. It is a cheerful task for him, evoking memories of doing Easter arrangements with his mother that lighten his heart. I on the other hand awoke with an aching nostalgia for my family of origin, the gathering in each other’s homes after Easter morning services, playing with my cousins in the yard while our parents prepared the feast, the huge circle of us saying grace, rituals I had no idea that I’d so sorely miss, back when I was living them without understanding how surrounded by love and care I was. But I have community still, people who always remember my name and welcome me in, and I recognize the gift that is, the door held open for me, no questions asked, no matter how long I have stayed away.
__________
Update on Easter: That's my husband getting ready to take the traditional Easter day
"family photo" of the congregation and our lovely minister in the
foreground, wrangling everybody. After the service and photos there was a pot luck and coffee hour in the garden, and then the man and I went to brunch, where I got quite plastered on half a margarita, which occasioned a delicious afternoon nap once we got back home.
How fortunate your are to have such a community. I have never really been a part of something like this. I hope your Easter service brings you peace and contentment.
ReplyDeleteSandra, the service was peaceful, and I actually sat there wondering why I don't rouse myself and go more often. I put it down to the fact that all my years growing up, my parents roused me at 5 am for 6 am services on Sunday, and so now sleeping in on Sunday feels wonderfully subversive. But yes, it was good to be there among that healthy contingent of New York radicals.
DeleteFor whatever reason, Easter does not bring the saddies to me. Probably because of the ham.
ReplyDeleteThat church sounds like a fine place place to go, to be. I am so glad that your husband has it because obviously, he does need a place to express his spirituality. I respect that.
Hey- here's something funny- I know two of the people who had very brief roles in "Philadelphia" too. Jonathon Demme, the director (may he rest in peace) filmed a movie in Tallahassee once (Something Wild) and he sort of fell in love with a few local people whom he often put in his future movies.
It's a funny world.
I sure hope that tomorrow isn't too hard for you. I know so very well how that can be.
Mary, that's so interesting that we both know people who were in the film Philadelphia! Jonathan Demme was quite an activist himself, and our first minister when we went to that church was Father Robert Castle, who happened to be Jonathan Demme's cousin. Demme even made a documentary about him called "Cousin Bobby." Bobby Castle baptized both my children, which I love, because surely he passed his revolutionary spirit along to them as he anointed their foreheads with holy water.
DeleteI wrote a response on my phone earlier but couldn't figure out how to post it.
ReplyDeleteSo, yes I have that sadness all those I used to celebrate with when I was a child are now gone. And there is no church that I am a part of to make tie the day to that.
I miss the days when all my children and grands gathered here too. Since the pandemic we've only done that once, that Thanksgiving when it seemed things were improving.
I will think about you tomorrow.
Kristin, it is the joy and the melancholy of large families, isn't it, knowing what is missing when we are apart from one another. I will never quite get over it but nor would I have given up the source of all that nostalgia. Happy Easter my friend. I thought about you, too.
DeleteThis is the most beautiful and wonderful story of Easter celebration. The church sounds perfect, one that I would love to walk in knowing I would be welcome. I wish you and your family a Happy Easter, from my heart to yours.
ReplyDeleteRobin, my husband is a church man, it feeds his soul, but isn't it just like him to have found a church for our family that mirrors all our social values. He is a man of the people, truly, he lives his values, and that little church, whose motto is "we are not afraid," allows him a place to do it in an organized way.
DeleteI, too, have never became a regular church goer. That said, we always enjoyed large family holiday gatherings...never imagining one day they would be no longer. Life goes on and an era has passed. Maybe, when we have grandchildren, the large family gatherings will return. Happy Easter! Also, the church and the play sounds terrific. A welcoming church is unique to me.
ReplyDeleteSusan, there is nothing to do but accept life's stages I suppose. I love your thought, and will hold on to it, the idea that perhaps, when there are grandchildren, those gatherings will come around again.
DeleteSo many holidays are fraught with nostalgia and melancholy for me as well. Tomorrow we will be having brunch at 11 with a couple of friends. I'm making buttermilk waffles and a fruit salad. She's bringing fried chicken. So, it'll be fun, but there will be no church. I haven't been to church in nearly a decade, I think.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth, your Easter sounds absolutely perfect. Church is a personal choice, no judgment here, that's for sure. It's about how we live, not what we make a show of. God knows there are legions of regular church goers in this country who are anything but filled with the spirit of human kindness. I don't know why they bother. Hugs to you, my friend.
Delete"... But I have community still, people who always remember my name and welcome me in, and I recognize the gift that is, the door held open for me, no questions asked, no matter how long I have stayed away."
ReplyDeleteMay there always be loving supportive communities like yours.
Sending love.
am, that church welcomes everyone, and there are many non religious people there, and people of faiths other than Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, agnostic, Hindu, who find community there, as I do. There are a lot of street people who have come through those doors and found a place to belong, too. My kids grew up greeting many homeless people on the streets as comerades, and their school friends were perplexed that they knew them, but they knew them from church.
DeleteHow great to have a church community where you feel connected. I grew alienated from religion as a young person, realizing I was gay and feeling opposed by most religious institutions (at least in my part of the country). Of course the world is changing these days, but I'm still not very religious myself. Still, I can see valuing the community.
ReplyDeleteSteve, you would feel welcome in this church. Any young person, realizing he or she is gay or trans or whatever, would find fellowship there. I love most of all that no one proselytizes there. They just roll up their sleeves and get busy doing what's needed for people who need it.
DeleteHoping you had a happy Easter...
ReplyDeletee, I had a lovely low key one. I hope yours was good, too.
DeleteIf I was going to belong to a church community it would be one like yours. I'm happy for your husband and for you that it fills a place in your heart. It's just another day for me and I spent it like I usually do, out in the yard enjoying the burst of colorful life trying to bring a little order into the chaotic mess.
ReplyDeleteellen, i often think that if I could think of all these prescribed holidays as just another day, it would relieve so much angst. I think you are wise.
DeleteHow wonderful your church sounds. It is the music I miss the most, I think. The joyful music - maybe not very professional, but heartfelt.
ReplyDeleteMary, me too! The music is my favorite part, and being able to sing out with gusto is what I love. For most of the pandemic, there was no music, but it has recently returned, which made it more appealing for me to return, too.
DeleteI can't remember the last time I was at a church, years for sure. I miss singing in church. I have a terrible singing voice but I love singing and when everyone is singing together, nobody can hear me. As for the half margarita, I'm the same way:)
ReplyDeletePixie, I don't have a great voice either, and it's gotten worse from lack of use, but I do love singing with everyone singing together, there's something so uplifting about so many voices raised in song. It's why I joined a choir, but that has been on pause, too, since covid started. Things seem to getting back to the new normal a bit, so maybe I'll get to singing again soon.
DeleteYou and your husband know how to share the love with every group you are part of - whether family, church, friends, work, blogs...
ReplyDeleteThank you!
Your church sounds wonderful. Maybe if I had grown up there instead of with the Southern Baptists I might still be churched. I can't sing at all, can't carry a tune. It's just embarrassing when I try.
ReplyDelete