Recently, I started doing something sort of like church attendance.
But it’s not a church. I don’t know what it is.
I have disciplined myself to attend once a week, when available.
It’s beautiful. Fresh air at its most needed moment. For me, at least.
It meets two or three times throughout the week for a Eucharist service. I’ve always taken that for being a big fancy word for communion. But I’m not sure that’s accurate.
Each gathering lasts under an hour. I usually go on a weekday at 10am, late in the week. It fits my freeform artist life.
I can break away from being creative in my shop or rehearsal studio to be gathered with a handful of humble silent people. At the most, 12. But sometimes just me and the two resident ministers.
This gathering is vastly different from my church upbringing and associate pastoral experience.
There is little to no chit-chat prior to or after the service. A mutual reverent vibe.
The two people called to this ministry live on site. Almost a monk-like existence.
The gathering site is a large house with a purposefully built gathering room on a second floor. A north and east wall have floor to ceiling windows that overlook one of the lakes surrounding Fort Qu’Appelle, as well as the forested coulee that this property resides in.
Sweet welcoming silence. A Tibetan Singing bowl.
Candle and incense lighting. Themed scripture readings peppered between unfamiliar songs in modal keys (shout out to fellow music nerds).
The singular forward gathering and eating of bread.
Then the 20-30 minute silence.
Generally, when the incense is all burned, a gentle call for closing.
That’s it.
No politics. No goof-ass church culture.
Oh dear god, thank you.
I have needed this.
Love this place too.
Beautiful, Brian. I love you and your spirit!!! Cousin Sheena