The beauty of the presence of Christ is so illusive and so inspiring. Illusive for those who insist on seeing Him only in one branch of the church--Protestant, Roman Catholic or Orthodox. (And protestants can further sub-divide to near infinity with branches and streams of this church and that...) And so if His glory alludes you, perhaps you are looking too closely, and not broadly enough.
Today we worshipped in a Roman Basilica. We understood very few words, but my spirit soared at each "hosanna" and "alleluia." We saw thousands of pilgrims crowd into multiple churches and chapels to rehearse the same salvific story, raising their hands to heaven as they recited our common Lord's Prayer.
Last Sunday the Georgian Orthodox worshippers spoke an even stranger tongue to our ears, but a dear one to our spirits. They grew quiet to reverence the reading of the gospel, recited the Lord's prayer and the creed, and bathed in the mellow comfort of soft light and the non-stop chanting of scripture. They venerated icons, and I watched with particular empathy as a priest listened to the confession of a tearful young woman.
Two Sundays back, we were in a church of our own denomination, hearing Russian and Ukrainian songs and the four common scripture readings. Hands were lifted in worship, and just as in the past two weeks, "The peace of Christ" was passed, person to person. Members of one Body.
And three Sundays back, our last in the States, we attended the mass of an Episcopal Church. The prayer of the day was modeled around Saint Francis' much loved "Lord Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace."
I cannot help but think about the following: In each church we have visited (besides the one which is part of our own denomination) we have heard four scripture readings, with the Gospel reading receiving special centrality. We have witnessed Holy Eucharist (communion), and the passing of the peace and reciting of the Nicene Creed and the praying of the Lord's prayer. Sure, there is "form" and habit in these things. But to me, they are things that bind us together. Litergy is less typical in my church, but its consistency across man made boundaries is a unifying bond. I have cherished it during my sojourn.
I often receive complaints when I write with interfaith themes. I cannot, however, glibly disown such a precious inheritance as the Body of Christ. Our Christian sisters and brothers see things differently, and speak differing languages. But there is one Body, one Church and one Baptism. And I for one intend to hold to this treasure.
I have stepped away, but not outside the reach of my faith, or the faithful who belong to it.
