When I was a kid, you know what I hated most about going to church? Pantyhose. Pantyhose and making sure my slip wasn’t showing. It was especially dreadful in the summer. Everything stuck to me, and getting out of all that was stuck on me after church made me even sweatier. Well, today is Sunday and this was what I put on… a tee shirt, capris jeans with paint on them, my favorite socks, and my old yard shoes. I’ll go to ‘formal’ church later today, but for this morning, I’m going to my favorite church. Chloe is coming with me. Yes. This church welcomes dogs and birds and butterflies and even ornery mosquitoes. It is where I always find God and sweetly, God always finds me. This church is right outside my backdoor where the goldfinch and hummers have already been praising. It’s that close. No car keys or pantyhose required.
Where do you find God? Isn’t it amazing how many different houses of worship there are and how many forms of worship there are? I was smiling as I was thinking of this as Chloe and I walked to pick wildflowers. Somewhere there are folks attending Catholic mass and down the road from me there are small country churches where the women wear their best Sunday hats and fans will be in the pews as the singing and dancing heats the place up! There are some churches where someone will be moved by yelling from the pulpit, and some places where silence is always the most profound speaker. In some church traditions, kneeling is the custom when praying. In other churches there will be waving hands and languages spoken unknown to many. These are all out of the Christian tradition. I have no idea what beautiful traditions are in place in Buddhist temples, Jewish synagogues, or Islamic or Hindu gatherings. But what I do know is this…
God is here. God is present. God is listening and loving you. Face down on the floor, twirling around under skies of blue. Within walls or outside. Within the framework of traditional religious practices or riding the wave of spontaneous delight. Clapping or crying. Working. Resting. In hospital rooms. At the local homeless shelter. In the homes where faith practices are rarely discussed. In every question. In every doubt. In every rejection of the institution of church because that institution caused more pain and sorrow than joy. You can know God or not know God, but I believe that God knows you, that God knows me, and we are judged only by the truth we try so desperately to live and by the love we always yearn to share.
If someone asks you, “Do you have a personal relationship with God,” say yes. Always say yes… because it’s about the personal part. How can it be personal if you are told how, when, where, and why to go about it? The way to know and love God is to live and love. Over and over again… live your truth and love. If we are indeed made in the image of God and God is love… then everything we need we already have.
It’s so not complicated. Humans make all of this complicated. I guess that’s why God made nature and silence… so we can just slip away time to time and go deeper than words. I am thankful you are in the world. I am thankful for who you are… whether you are just like me or vastly different.
And on this Sabbath morning, I wanted you to know that as I notice the ripples down my lane from the pouring rain last night,
as I thrill over the light in the trees,
and as I arrange the black-eyed susans with the queen anne’s lace…
I am hoping something will stir you. I am hoping that God will aide you in claiming your own voice, your own yearnings, and your path to God’s doorstep. I trust that it is closer than realized.
I trust that going to church begins in the heart… so follow that.
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