Sunday, September 19, 2010

 


Gratitude Project

Day 16 – Worship


I was raised as a Presbyterian. Most Sunday mornings of my childhood were spent in Church – in Sunday school or in the youth choir. I went on youth retreats – weekend ski trips and summer bible camp. I was even a youth elder – an honorary leader of the church. When I went to college, I took both my first religion class and my first women’s studies course, and doubts I’d had about the gender politics of church teachings blossomed into a full-scale mental rebellion. I stopped going to church. I became a Religion major in order to “work out” my anger and anxiety about the theology I had been raised with.


In my 20’s I remained a stalwart agnostic, although I dabbled in Goddess religion and occasionally joined a Catholic friend at her church “for the music.” My then-boyfriend-now-husband is Jewish, so I also participated in family rituals and occasional services with him. But I never quite felt at home in any of these spiritual settings. I had a lot of friends who were similarly disillusioned with their religions of origin. We shared our frustration about the idea that the religion you are raised (no matter how much you dislike it) might always hold the most sway over you in terms of its ability to light up your divinity sensors.


But the older I get, the less hung-up I am on labels, on definitions, on theological precepts. What I look forward to now is the chance to worship with other people. I feel kind of uncomfortable even using the word worship, because it sounds so formal, so church-y. But I don’t know another word that can adequately express the experience of communally engaging with the divine.


Today I went to Yom Kippur services at a wonderful Jewish Renewal synagogue. The congregation and its gregarious leader consider themselves “spiritual progressives.” They welcome everyone – Jewish, non-Jewish, white, black, Asian, gay, straight – and they spend a lot of time focusing on how and why Judaism is relevant in the world today. They do a lot of singing during the services – which I really love – singing opens my heart like nothing else.


I am grateful for the chance to stand today and repent last year’s sins. For the chance to put my arms around a stranger and sway back and forth singing Lai Lai Lai. For the chance huddle close to a group of my fellow congregants under our prayer shawls while receiving an ancient blessing. For the chance to sit in the car before services and apologize to my husband for all the ways I disregarded and disrespected his humanity this year. For the chance to sit next to him in services, hand in hand, promising to do better this year. For the opportunity to spiritually re-boot my life once a year.


And I am aware that if it weren’t for all the many other moments of worship I have experienced – all those other moments standing with others speaking and singing and praying – I wouldn’t have been so primed today to be engaged and receptive to the experience on offer. Thanks Mom and Dad for encouraging me to participate in the Church as a child. Thanks Universe for continually floating opportunities for spiritual expression my way (despite my frequent attempts to avoid them). Thanks to the Rabbi and the Congregation for being so welcoming and inclusive to an outsider. Thanks to G-d, whatever you are, for singing to me through some many different instruments.

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