Sunday, July 05, 2015

 

Sunday Reflection: Summertime



When I lived in Michigan, I lived near a Unitarian church that closed for the summer. That always seemed odd to me, since faith did not seem like a seasonal thing to me at that time. I was pretty dismissive of that policy.

On reflection, though, I am more understanding. I don't think it is for me-- I wouldn't want to go that long without a faith community-- but there is, in fact, a seasonal aspect to Congregational life. The liturgical calendar is one manifestation of that.

And I have to confess that I do treat summer differently. I don't take summer off from church, but I do take the opportunity to stay home some mornings, and (more often) visit other churches. I love the experience of walking in someplace where I am unknown and becoming a part of it. In the summer, many churches are less formal, and it is a better time to do this.

At Seventh and James in Waco, we had "Chattaqua" in the summer, which was a series of Sunday School classes on topics that ranged all over the place. I loved it, and learned a lot. It made summer different, and more interesting. In fact, this was the birthplace of the Trial of Jesus, some 14 years ago.

So, I'm ok with summer being different. Are you?

Comments:
I love the "Chautauqua" at Seventh and James. Part of the reason we decided to join. Really great discussion, led by knowledgeable people. This year we have it on Wednesday evening as well, just one topic for the summer on Wednesday, in addition to multiple topics each week on Sunday, four weeks per topic for the first eight weeks and three weeks for the last part of the summer. Sorry I did not overlap with you in that regard.

One of the issue areas this summer has been the history of the idea of separation of church and state, and how the sides have changed over time.
 
My summertime church sits high above a beach, a green meadow shaded by majestic trees that frame the sky over the water. You can hear waves crashing and birds singing, along with the voices of the parishioners, a cappella. We sing simple songs, like "For the Beauty of the Earth,'" and the words ring true. People sit on lawn chairs or beach blankets; they bring their dogs. You kick off your flip flops and feel the soft grass under your toes. You hear the words of the Gospel unadorned by any of the trapping of church. The sermon is preached just the way I imagine that Sermon on the Mount was preached: in open air, to a multitude, hungry for the authentic, for this stripped-bare telling of the story.
 
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