The Cup of a Carpenter – At Sea – [03/30/2014]

“I wished only to welcome you to our town and to invite you to worship with us on Sunday.”

“Thank you very kindly sir, but actually we don’t attend…though we shall enjoy the singing of the bells…” ~ Chocolat.

Like Vianne Rocher with her mysterious chocolates, I do not choose to attend mainstream church. Though I was christened and occasionally taken to service clutching the hand of my grandmother, my own spiritual path led me down quite a different road. One that put me in a position to be much more likely to find faith in the music of the bells and the cries of gulls than in the words of man, no matter how inspired or beautiful. I am, at heart, in blood and bone, a Daughter of Diana, and I highly doubt that that will ever change.

In truth, while I have never disbelieved mainstream faith (I truly hold that belief makes reality, therefore if people believe in their own personal truth, then that truth is real for them, provides comfort for them, and who am I – or anyone else for that matter – to deny the power and comfort of real belief), and I have always respected the faith of another, I have never truly understood it. I’ve never quite understood why people seem so willing to subscribe to something that over the years seems to have made people so miserable…I’ve always known that there is beauty in faith, I’ve seen it in my own religion, in my own life, and in the lives of others like me. I’ve also seen that same faith bring great sorrow, and for a long time it has seemed the the sorrow outbalances the joy and that’s always made me wonder… “why” …why submit yourself to the concept of something so terribly judgemental and contradictory?

And then this morning, I – through a series of circumstances I did not quite intend – attended church. For what is probably the first time in about 10 years. As I have mentioned before, we have His Grace the Archbishop Desmond Tutu sailing with us this season, and it’s not precisely very often that one has the opportunity to witness a service given by such a man.

I won’t go into the duration of the service, it was beautifully done, but as always I felt like a hypocrite being there, as though I had a great glowing sign above my head saying “this woman is not one of you”…I know that organized religion is supposed to be all about acceptance, but I’m afraid to say that simply hasn’t been my experience. See my previous statement about reasons why I simply don’t “get” most organized religion.

But the entire two hour service was worth it for the very very last five or ten minutes.

In person the Archbishop is a very small person, tiny and frail and probably a good head shorter than me. He’s “wee”, which is a word I don’t use often, but I honestly do mean it as a compliment. He’s a good man. Even having not exchanged two words with him you can tell that he’s a good man.

At the end of the sermon, he and the gospel choir (the same ones that performed last night, and they really are quite incredible) are singing the final “amen”, and his voice is tiny and frail and well…old…but somehow incredibly powerful. And the rest of  the participants are singing in well…typical reserved church-goer style, more of a respectful murmer than an actual voice…and His Grace finishes the hymn, turns around, looks at the choir, looks back at us and says…

What you all so shy for?! Everyone stand up, all of you, stand up…

And we all stand up…and he looks at all of us and says

Now, we gonna sing this…like we MEANS it…

And there’s a collective nervous laugh, and the choir starts again and suddenly, as if given permission, everyone in that room is singing for real, and people are crying…

And in that five minutes. I got it. I mean, not in the sense that I’m about to go out and convert, not that kind of “I get it”…but…I get why people go to church, I get what it’s supposed to be. I get that same energy lift when I wade into the ocean, when I walk through a forest, or when I heard the bells ring in Siciliy. That sense of being something, of belonging to something…

Yeah…I get it.

And whether I believe in what it stands for or not, or support everything that has been done in its name or not, well…that’s a good thing.

So here’s what I think: “I think we can’t go around judging ourselves and others by what we don’t do, what we deny ourselves, and who we exclude. I think we need to focus on what we do , how we rejoice and who we include…” (Chocolat)

God bless
Goddess bless
Namaste
And all the rest