Tags
Everyday God, Everyday Life, Memberships, Oklahoma Gardening, Soul Care, St. Paul's Cathedral, Taize, Writing
In honor of my 100th post, I joined Blog Oklahoma late yesterday evening.
Before joining, I traveled through all seventy-one pages of blog descriptions of other members. A dozen enticed me to pay a visit; three ended up on my blogroll. So I thought, “Why not”. “I’ll come out and play.” But other than this, I’m not sure what will come of my membership.
Memberships are funny animals. In joining a club or society or whatever, we satisfy this inate desire to belong to something bigger than ourselves. I belong to the AICPA and the OSCPA, though my life as a certified public accountant rests on an unlit back burner. Yet I hate to drop this long-term affiliation, even though I’ve no dreams to ever practice again. I confess: I enjoy being on my husband’s payroll.
More recently, I joined the Oklahoma Country Master Gardeners. Now this membership requires me to do something other than to breathe and pay money once a year. Twice a month I go sit behind the county extension help desk, what I have affectionately renamed the ‘hope desk’, as my callers are always looking for a ray of hope. When the phones grow silent, I visit with two other on-duty gardeners. And when my phone rings, I listen to the caller’s latest malady, as I play a bit of plant detective to uncover the mystery of why this or that is not performing as expected.
We do have our pesky expectations, don’t we? Expectations have sent me to question my local church membership. The last three Sunday mornings I have played musical pews, to see if I can find a better fit than where I currently ‘belong’. So far, no dice. Each church has its own personality, it’s own way of conducting the business of church, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m looking for that mythical mystical unicorn.
I’m looking for a church that conducts less business and more church, at least during the worship hour. My biggest gripe about church is not the passing of the plate, or even the dreaded passing of the peace–a nightmare for introverts like me, and even some extroverts like my friend Laure who always dabs on a bit of hand sanitizer afterwards, just in case she got a little more than bargained for–but rather it’s the spirit-grating advertisements that come in the midst of the worship service. We’ve prayed, sang a few hymns and then, low and behold, here come a few ‘announcements’ or two. Ecclesliastes 3 teaches us there is a time for everything under the sun; in my book, commercials, even if related to the business of the church, should not reside anywhere near a worship service. To them, I say: Be gone. Find your own time and space.
Ironically, for this writer-wannabe, the perfect church service would be practically wordless — certainly no sermon or commericals. Just music, a few chants, the barest of homilies. I had hoped to find this animal alive at the montly Taize service at St. Paul’s Cathedral yesterday evening. But what I remembered at 3 pm was gone by 5pm. So it will be September before I can satisfy my curiousity. And I hope, this unmet desire to join with something bigger than myself.
But make no mistake. If Taize meets my dreams of church, I’ve no plans to join St. Paul’s. And I hope the real members of St. Paul’s don’t mind. But if they pass the plate, I’ll pay. And if they pass the peace, I’ll play and even keep my hand sanitizer at home. But mostly, I just want to pray, surrounded by a few others who mostly want to pray.
Come Holy Spirit. Come out, come out, wherever you are. To you and you and you, Trinity of One, do I truly wish to belong.
an everyday life 
Is this your 100th? My own 100th is currently posted – what a lovely coincidence.
The search for a congregation can be fraught with peril and disappointment. Perhaps the worst example of a growing trend can be found just down the road from me, where a large, non-denominational congregation has this sign plastered all over their building:
CLearCreek.org
That’s it.
There’s a wonderful Lutheran church in Houston that used to offer the Taize service. They also have one of the best organs in town – at least to my taste. It’s a tracker action that was recently built specifically to play Bach and other such music. I found one video on youtube you might enjoy.
Linda,
Thanks for stopping by and sharing the soaring fugue. It made my heart swell. And for your comments on my post about our recent experience in nursing home (un)care. It’s always good to receive an affirmation, though none of what transpired felt good.
Amazing about this organ. Twenty years in Lake Jackson and I never knew of its existence. So many treasures in Houston. But, maybe on our next visit, I’ll be able to check it out, maybe with Taize.
Congratulations on your 100th. As with all your writing, I found your message in a bottle piece lovely. It inspired me to write. And I thank you.
Janell
Hi Janell,
Welcome to BlogOklahoma. I joined a year or so ago, and it’s nice to meet other Okie bloggers. Thank you so much for adding my blog to your blogroll. I’m honored. I’m adding you to mine as an Okie Sister. I attend Mass at St. John’s in Edmond, but it’s even a bit modern for me. I, sometimes, would like to just sit and listen to chant and partake of communion and little else, but after attending my church for over 20 years, we have become used to each other. 🙂
Congrats on becoming a Master Gardener too. I love Mesta Park, almost bought a house there once.~~Dee
Dee,
Sunday night when I first visited your blog, I knew I wanted to come back again and again. I didn’t even bother to read your bio. I’m more of a ‘first glance’ decision maker. When I make a decision at all.
But after taking a look at your bio right now, I see we have a little more in common than this desire to get our hands dirty and write about it. I too am the mother of four, though my youngest is now a senior at OU.
Anyway, about the master gardening, I’m no ‘master’ of anything. And I know it. But gardening is the purest act of faith that I practice — and writing words on a blank screen or page is probably a close second. Both are my attempts to createa little beauty with God. By comparison, prayer seems easy, though I regard both as prayer practice.
After three dismal years of gardening, upon moving to Mesta Park from the Texas Gulf coast — a virtual greenhouse where everything is perennial– I knew I needed some formal instruction. So I signed up for the master gardening classes. And Shroeder Wilson — one of your OKlahoma Gardening co-contributors, was my counselor. I love her and the magazine for which you both write. And I think I’m gonna love you as well.
And I say this not because I’m a person of snap judgments. But because you and your blog are as real as dirt. The best kind. Humble humus.
Thanks for stopping by, which for me was a word of encouragement. And for adding me to your Red Dirt Sisters.
Janell