Experiencing a Gift

I went to church this past Sunday, the 3^rd Sunday in Advent, at St. Mark's, Berkeley. I had planned to go to another church that is rather distinctive in their worship as a learning experience, but I had to change plans so that I could meet some old college friends in town for the day. I picked St. Mark's mostly because it was pretty close to campus. St. Mark's has a lovely choir and music program (their choirmaster and organist is actually my music professor at CDSP). The music and hymnody was beautiful and very well attuned to the day in the church calendar and the readings. The service was a pretty straight-forward Holy Eucharist, Rite II, the most familiar service for most Episcopalians my age.

It was exactly what I desperately needed.

For me, at that moment in my life and study, the elegantly basic service at St. Mark's was extraordinarily nourishing. The beauty of the music, the familiarity of the hymns, the ease of following a familiar service that was carefully designed and prayerfully led all helped heighten my prayer and connection to God at a time when I needed that help. I'm tired here at the end of the semester. Tired of being away from my family so often. Tired of having to be ready to defend every minor observation from the critique of my fellow seminarians. Tired of trying to say something useful in class. Tired of asking hard questions of myself. To be able to just follow along, sing, pray, and not worry about asking or answering questions was like an early Christmas present. I realized why why our church can be a gift. We are supposed to be healers and reconcilers. I didn't need a lot of healing yesterday, but I needed some. I've been studying all kinds of complicated theologies of healing and reconciliation, but yesterday, in something no more intellectual or complex than a fairly standard service of our faith tradition, I experienced healing and reconciliation. It can be as simple as Holy Eucharist, Rite II.