Stars above roots below, some thoughts on faith Part 1

Places of Worship:

Oh how I have loved ritual all throughout my life. It started with Catholic church, the smell of frankincense, the texture of popping the air bubbles on the laminated covers of my catacism books, wearing the heavy red robes with the big white collars to choir practice, then the sound of sweet bells ringing as a dozen little voices harmonized.

The most vivid ritual of my early childhood I remember was my first holy communion. As a tiny infant I had been cleared of sin via my baptism, now I was to marry Christ along with all my other class mates.I remember doing lots of practicing and memorizing for the big days events. I remember my mom having me wear her wedding veil and an embroidered white dress. I remember holding a rose up to a statue of Mary and bowing before her in reverence.

I remember doing the stations of the cross for the first time, rolling my rosary in my hands and praying over each step Christ took, supposedly for our sins, towards the fateful cross he would be hung from then left to die. It was gruesome and intriguing and raised a lot of questions in my head, like what does this have to do with me? It was clearly important for all the adults that I learn this stuff and apply it to my every day actions, so I did, we all did as little believers trying to be good.

When I go into a church I want it to be beautiful, I want it to set the scene for prayer and contemplation. I want to feel that sense of elation, not from the words the person speaks from the pulpit but from the space its self, feeling God in every corner. When God's presence is clear to me I can then blissfully engage with divinity, see it as a part of me, feel a part of something greater then myself, feel as one.

When I first walked into a Unitarian church I did not feel this. the space was clean, open and empty, nothing fun to look at other then the pretty windows behind the pulpit where the forevergreens of the northwest always sat in quiet contentment. The sermon was quiet alive though, I felt like I could actually listen to the words and have it make sense, perhaps even apply it to my life. this was not something I had experienced in my adult hood in any church. The songs we sang were full of hope and ideas, some even re-written to have liberating lyrics as opposed to the ancient hymns of my youth. I felt lost without the repetition and ritual of Catholic mass but also elated at this new idea of worship.

My partner and I have sense gone to many Unitarian services, some exciting and new, others holding a similar dullness to the eulogies of my youth, except without all the fancy fanfare of the Catholic church. We started going to the church in Austin hoping to have some spiritual community and considering it a possible base for Sweet pea to have in her life. The church its self is going through some major transitions with a new minister coming in so it seems like a good time to add our new energy to the mix.

Last week daddy took sweet pea out of the chapel to take a nap and left me alone in the pew, well relatively considering every aisle was packed with folks. This time I got a chance to just be present with my surroundings, instead of the constant tug of attention that is a mother with her toddler in a new place. I got to breath it all in, notice the little ways the Unitarians have figured out how to make sacred space. My favorite was a wall of candles next to windows overlooking a live oak. Also the choir with its immaculate operatic voices echoing through the space.

There is a pause in the chatter of the minister to have a silent meditation and get up and light a candle if you wish. I got up and lit a little blue one that called out to me, I then walked back to my seat with my hands folded and started fervently praying. I prayed for myself and my family and all the people I know. I then prayed for all the animals, and all the people of our world and for protection from climate change and ideas for how to make it less hard. The prayers poured out of me like a sudden gush, I was feeling it, the divine spirit, the right mix of silence, alone-ness surrounded by people, and that ache of love in my heart.

Daddy eventually came back with the sweet pea strapped to his chest asleep, we held hands for the rest of the service. I had finally found my base in this chosen church.