I was raised in the Catholic Church. Until about the age of twelve or so, I wanted to be a nun. Well, I wanted to be a journalist, but also a nun. Maybe I really wanted to be one of the martyrs in my book of saints. They had pretty pictures painted and exciting stories, and I certainly wanted some excitement in my life. After I made my confirmation, I became a lector at my church. I loved my priests and enjoyed working with them to interpret the Scripture with my voice. When I got married–by a justice of the peace in my parents' living room–I was told that I could no longer take communion (not by a priest, mind you) until I was married in a church. That ticked me off to no end, and I pretty much stopped going to church. My new lifestyle made it easy; my first husband is a musician, and we had a lot of late Saturday nights, making it just fine by me to stay in bed late on a Sunday.
Years later, though, my ex-husband and I felt the need to be a part of a church community again, he more than I, I think, and I participated in hopes that we could save our marriage that had fallen apart so suddenly and sadly. We separated, but both kept going to the same Episcopal Church. We knew the priest there socially, and we attended her Wednesday night "alternative" service, which included mediatations and prayers said out loud. I suffered mightily when my ex-husband–the wound of his asking me for a divorce wide open–prayed that the husband of the woman he claimed to love now (having, apparently, never really loved me) would understand their need to be together and accept the changes that were coming. Never mind that the woman never left her husband or even told him about her affair. My point is that this setting was painful, and I removed myself from it and started instead to go to the early morning Sunday service, which I knew F. would not attend.
At the same time, I had taken on a second job teaching at a prison and a third job adjuncting at the college where I was a grant writer. I was in the process of applying for MFA programs and preparing for the GREs. The priest at the church asked me to be involved in different activities, and when I would defer, she managed to persuade me. I was emotionally wiped. I had no rest, for I didn't sleep well for months at a time. Later, when I started to be away on weekends, the priest asked if I was dating. I told her about Neal, and she said that I should break up with him and wait for F. to come around. I asked if she had told him to stop dating, and she said that he needed to work through his pain.
What about mine? I grew increasingly disillusioned with the church (although I love the Book of Common Prayer with devotion), and looking back, I feel that I was abused by this church. At a time when I was fragile, overworked, and distressed, they demanded more and more from me. Could I have said no at any time? Of course. But I needed and wanted help and support, which I simply did not recieve.
Since that time, I have stayed away from churches. I understand the comfort they can bring and the joy, too, but I was hurt deeply and only just feel like I might someday find another church. I miss the celebrations of the holidays in their truest sense–the holy days. My spirituality and relationship with my higher power is strong; I don't need any church for that.
Lent is one of the times of year when I most miss Church–Catholic or Episcopalian. I like the discipline of the Lenten season. It is an excellent time to evaluate habits, to reflect on growth, to see what parts of me need improvement, and to embarck on those improvements and disciplines. Tonight I'll be busy grading papers, and in the little breaks I'll take, I want to consider what I want to do with my Lenten season this year. In the past, I've given up television, fast food, other habits that seem wasteful of time and energy. I'll do a little of that, but I want to remember what my childhood priest once told me: the Lenten Disciplines are not only about giving up our vices and luxuries, but also about implementing postive new habits, cultivating the goodness in ourselves.
I hope no one feels the need to comment on my attitude about churches. I feel a little vulnerable writing about spirituality and religion on my blog; I know what nice girls do and do not discuss in public, but I can't always be Miss Manners. With this post, I simply wanted to explore for myself how I'm feeling about Lent this year and where those feelings come from. I'd love you to share, if you observe Lent, how you approach it if you'd like.
In the meantime, enjoy those vices today, and savor the pancakes tomorrow!
I am an Episcopalian, through and through. I have never had to endure the Catholic regime. I adore the Common Book of Prayer and some prayers are etched in my mind as healing prayers as I go about and through my days. I have no guilt from my religion, but only strength and would be lost without my faith. I do not take the time in my daily life to attend church and I adore one special little Episcopal church in MA where I was confirmed. It is my home church and I miss it terribly, due to the distance. But as I do my daily tasks and walk the fields and work with my sheep there are times I stop dead in my tracks and thank God for all the blessings of this life. I am truly thankful even on the darkest days. Always know church is the formal alter, but your faith alive each and every day, no matter where you kneel.
Just don’t let your past experience prevent you from finding a new “home”.
Oh my this is a deep topic! Bravo for bursting forth….
I am so sorry that you had such an unsupportive relationship with your last church; it sounds unconscionable to me, that double standard.
I was raised Midwestern Episcopal, which (to me) seems so different than New England/Eastern Episcopal; less blue blood and more…sincere? I’m not sure that is the right word, but I haven’t found an Episcopal church in CT that feels non-judgmental and like I could call it home. I, too, miss the ceremony of the big holidays, but won’t settle for a church that I merely tolerate a few times a year out of a sense of obligation. I haven’t observed Lent…since high school, I think. But I like the idea of Lent as a re-evaluation and a time to start new habits instead of giving stuff up.
Whoah. I can’t believe that a church would tell you that you cannot date Neal! Aren’t churches supposed to be supportive and not critical? I had no idea they did such things. How creepy.
(Is it obvious that I grew up in an atheist household?).
I am an Orthodox Christian (thin Eastern Orthodox, Russia, Constantinople, etc.). Lent is a very important time for us. We abstain from meat, dairy, and olive oil. Fish only on Sundays. But we’re not legalistic about this – some people have dietary restrictions and our priests are supposed to guide us on an individual basis according to our circumstances.
Wednesdays and Friday we have the Vesperal Liturgy usually in the evenings (service starts out as vespers and concludes as Liturgy with communion). It’s really beautiful with the church in the dark and just candles – unfortunately with the daylight savings time the sun is still up at at the beginning of the service which takes away the effect a bit. Often, since this is in the evening and people sometimes have to drive at a distance to go to a parish here in the US, we will have potluck dinner afterwards. Really nice opportunity to socialze with people at church.
Churches will often have lectures and discussions on different matters, like the Bible, enriching one’s spiritual life, etc.
Here is the Prayer of St. Ephraim that we recite during Lent:
O Lord and Master of my life, take from me the spirit of sloth, despair, lust of power, and idle talk. (prostration)
But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Thy servant. (prostration)
Yea, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own transgressions, and not to judge my brother, for blessed art Thou, unto ages of ages. Amen. (prostration)
A slight correction – the name of the service is Liturgy of the Presanctified Gifts (the bread and wine is consecrated on Sunday and reserved for Wednesday and Friday).
This will be my first year observing Lent, as we now attend a Reformed Episcopal Church, after having grown up non-denominational. I am already not eating sugar, so I’m going to focus more on, as your priest pointed out, creating positive habits. I plan to read the morning and evening prayers from the Book of Common Prayer to Baby Ezra. I hope to keep this new habit up the rest of my life as our family grows!
Beverly- what a beautiful post. i’m so glad i re-found my blog today so that i could read this. i’m touched that you chose to let us all into your thoughts on this.
I am so sorry that you have felt distanced from your denomination/church, based on what one priest kept asking of you and one community let her do. It sounds like she was being more of an administrator (“I need to get stuff done”) than a pastor (“How do I feed/care for this particular person?”).
There have been times in my life that I have felt keenly disappointed in a particular congregation and or leadership, and have left a couple of congregations because of it, but I always try (even when it it REALLY hard) to remember that those are the failings of human beings.
May you have a peaceful and productive Lent.
I had a similar experience – for me, it was the priest wanting me to post an article about illness being the wages of sin on the parish website. It was an awful article…all about how suffering and illness are evil, and how healing is granted only when we pray.
Needless to say, it was not something I needed to read…not when I’d just ‘been stricken’ with MS.
It took some time for me to stop going to church (I think the nail in my coffin was the same priest’s homily on the many reasons why Mel Gibson’s movies are so good) but I don’t think of myself as having left. I feel like I just took myself outside.
I do try to give things up during Lent, and take things on. It’s a good practice.