My son is scared of leeches. He's also pretty nervous about ebola. That whole bleeding-out-of-your-eye thing, kind of freaks him out. I can understand this. It is abnormal to bleed out of your eye. It would also mess up a person's makeup. For this reason alone I told him I would no longer wear makeup. Making fun of my son's fears to lighten his concerns usually works if it's done with good intent. This is called distraction in the world of children. And sometimes distraction works with adults, too.
The members of our church recently found out that our rector is retiring (the main priest in laymen's terms). During our first visit to St. Stephen's 10 years ago, Patricia was giving her inaugural sermon. I loved her immediately and Michael was impressed. He would have the most reservations as he grew up in a fairly conservative background including stints as an alterboy and regular church attendance. We both decided after visiting that day that we had found out church.
As a child, I didn't belong to a church. My parents said I could decide if I wanted to go to church when I was older. However, I would attend church whenever my grandparents had me for the weekend. It seemed so mysterious to me then and I now recognize this was just ignorance around the traditions of the catholic church. But I learned to appreciate these traditions whenever my grandpa and grandma brought us along. They would guide us when to stand and kneel. "And also with you" was a phrase I learned to confidently roll of my tongue. My sister and I knew THAT phrase. Another tradition my grandma had, upon entering and exiting the church, was to dunk both my sister and me until we were soggy with holy water. My grandma was saving us. It was a little church in Swartz Creek Michigan. She was worried we wouldn't go to heaven.
When I was 11, our uncle Dick asked for a divorce from our favorite aunt. He had fallen in love with someone else. What could she do? Her heart was broken but she allowed the divorce and at that time, it had to be someone's fault in the courts. In the courts, uncle Dick was to blame. But at the church, my aunt was excommunicated. She was to blame. Now it seemed, no one was safe. Luckily, my grandma had died the year before so at the most she could have been my aunt's angel. You could not distract my aunt from her hurt.
And now our rector is leaving and we have called another woman to become our interim rector. We voted to have her come on board in our vestry meeting this last week. Time after time we heard from people on the search committee and the people who were lucky enough to meet her in person. They all raved about her. She's dynamic and smart, loving and kind. She delivers an amazing sermon. And she is in a committed relationship with another woman.
There was one dissenting voice. One person voted against her. In this day and age one man could not move beyond the strict gates of tradition. He has since notified us that he is leaving the vestry. And I don't know if anyone has reached out to him to talk. I find it hard to reach out to him myself with his red, angry face. But I think he could use a little distraction. Maybe, we could show him where and how history has moved forward if only he weren't still living back there.
a writer's blog
