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Sunday, March 13, 2011

Sundays, Bandwagons, and Beaches


As a kid I used to hate Sundays. It meant wearing stuffy clothes, sitting in a boring pew and listening to guy dressed in…well, a dress, ramble on (in Latin) while peering down at me like he knew every bit of mischief I’d been up to.

Being a kid and learning about God is akin to being a teenager and learning about love. You’ve got your preconceived notions, the stuff your parents and the church tell you, and then you have reality. I collected information on God mostly from my mother and catechism. Catechism is the catholic version of Sunday school, but it’s also a prerequisite for communion and confirmation, and you get tons of credit from God for going.

By the time I was fourteen I was completely confused about the God rules: what with menial and mortal sins, hell and purgatory, eating meat or not, all my protestant friends going to hell, so I kind of chucked it all and set out to find out the truth for myself, al la Leah.

Being the passionate soul that I am I found myself jumping on and off bandwagons more than a circus performer. I still have some bruises from the jumping off part. But after a lifetime of searching, and trying on different spiritual robes, I find that I have kind of come full circle and back to a bunch of basics….minus all the church accessories.

I believe that I am my church which conveniently lets me off the hook from having to actually leave my house and attend one. I am a temple, built in the image of God, living and breathing, being his available hands, and voice, on this troubled planet. I may speak with the tongues of a fallen species, but I also, through many a trial, have learned the language of love and compassion which guides my motives and usually keeps me spiritually healthy. I say usually because I don’t always do the right thing. That would make me perfect and perfect doesn’t exist for anyone.

So, now I love my Sundays. They are completely free and open, allowing me to flow with the moment. Today I am taking my church to the beach where I intend to soak up the sun, relax with my family, and take in the splendor of God’s creation. Did I mention that there are some fine Adams at the beach …hehe. Hey! Remember…I am perfectly imperfect!



Art provided by Fran Murphy

8 comments:

PJ Stuart said...

Really great insight Leah...we are of like mind. I can worship anywhere I choose. I do the church thing, somewhat begrudgingly, but many times I have found the Spirit of God in houses of worship...most of the time I do not. I find people trapped in a box. They bought the book, wear the T-Shirt and fling the lingo. The God I worship is everywhere and no place better than His natural creation. Church at the beach, with like-minded people would be my ideal. Until then, I'll get my bruises as I search for His presence, because when I do find Him I am in awe!

Leah Griffith said...

Amen Pj, I guess this means we need to have church soon. My beach or yours?

leahcog said...

Leah, I love how our wonderful Creator always has us on similar paths. This was beautiful, written simply and honestly. I love how your expressions make me smile with recognition... I love you. Leah

Leah Griffith said...

Leah,
We share such a rich spiritual history, and I am not surprised that we are still on similar paths. I miss you...perhaps I need to visit Costa Rica. *grin
I love you. Leah

Cut and Clear said...

Glad you had a great weekend!!

Leah Griffith said...

Thank you Cut. I hope yours was pleasant too. I intend to sneak over and visit....

Jayne said...

Ha! I love this. I'm with you, and I'd take my church to the beach, too, if it weren't snowing or raining. ;)

Leah Griffith said...

Jayne, beach church is the best. You must be starting to thaw out in New England. I'm originally from Worcester, so I know what you're going through!

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