July 26, 2016

Already this morning several people have commented on how nice a morning it is. I smile and nod and agree and all the while think, “it is beautiful and was this beautiful yesterday and will be tomorrow too because the weather never changes here,” and then I wonder if I’m missing something and I marvel at their ability to notice subtle changes in the weather that are lost on me, the one who prides herself on being incredibly observant. Maybe that is just wishful thinking.

Went to Morning Prayer and am now sitting in the Thinkers Café, a place I like to go to drink coffee, work, sit, write, and think. There are sayings stenciled on the walls, like There never has been a genius without some touch of madness (Seneca) and I wonder if since I have a touch of madness does that make me a genius—but as much as I want it to, I don’t think it works that way. Another says Be not afraid of going slowly be only afraid of standing still (Chinese Proverb) and I wonder, “should I be afraid of going too fast because I am always going too fast, what happens if I never stand still?” The one next to it reads, Give me a place to stand and I will move the world (Archimedes). (These must be where all the quotes about movement congregate and argue.) So what is it? Stand still, move? Maybe I can move so fast it will appear I’m standing still—the Flash, I want to be the Flash (Marvel Comics). Can I wear red cowboy boots? Ernesto and the kids are driving through Wyoming and told me everyone wears cowboy boots and I put in my order for a red pair, size 8.

Liturgy is on my mind a lot lately especially since the biggest reason I wanted to be at St. Gregory’s is that I am enamored with their liturgy and with their worship space, which facilitates their liturgy, and their practice of making liturgy the work of all the people present. I’ve attended every service for three Sundays so far (10 services all together) and I’m beginning to pick up the rhythm and pattern of each service—Sunday Morning Prayer, the 8:30 Eucharist Service, and the 10:45 Eucharist Service, as well as the once-monthly Supper Service. Services are well orchestrated without appearing to be orchestrated and amazingly the people are doing the work to make the services happen. I think this is amazing because outside of a house church that I helped form and I attended, most services I’ve ever attended have clearly been performed by a few leaders and it is clear who those leaders are. At St. Gregory’s, there is a worship leader, and this person plays a role, but it is never clear to me who is leading because many people are robed but they are all leading us and it feels like all of us unrobed people are leading each other. It is like watching an Alvin Ailey well-choreographed dance performance where Alvin has trained us all in a way that we never knew we were being trained and he trained us in the art of improvisation because we are fluid and pick up where others have left off or forgotten things. It is beautiful and fun and feels a bit like sitting and standing and dancing and singing in someone’s living room—it is comfortable and inviting and the food is good and the company is great.

Liturgy—the work of the people, people eating bread and wine, people sharing the body and blood of Christ, people loving one another, people dancing around an altar that feeds people with the bread of life. Last week after the Food Pantry I had a conversation with Sara, founder of the Food Pantry, about her vision and how she made it happen. Despite all she told me the thing that stuck in my brain and has been rattling around bumping into other thoughts and experiences until I can fully process it is, “Giving away food needs to be done in the same way the Eucharist is experienced—open to all and participatory.” Sitting in the Thinkers Café I am struck by the thought that the Food Pantry is liturgy, the work of the people giving away food, just as the Eucharist is the work of the people giving away food. At the Food Pantry we are all workers (Christ’s hands and heart) giving away food as people circle the altar, just as it happens every Sunday at two Eucharist services when workers (us) give each other the body and blood of Christ. I get it Sara, I get it! Not only do I get it, I experienced it in my body (not just in my head) and every cell understands what it means to do the work of the people. That is liturgy. OK, add my participation in the Food Pantry to my count of services I’ve attended—13 in all and more to come!