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Last Sunday morning

Posted by thoughtful1 on August 16, 2007

Last Sunday morning I went to church.  But not my church.  I went to Trinity church in Copley.  And Episcopalian church.  I’m not Episcopalian.  I’m Unitarian.  What was I doing in a church called Trinity?

I don’t know.  I don’t quite know.  A few weeks ago I began to feel that I needed to learn more about Christianity.  It’s a large part of our culture, and I’ve been surrounded by it all my life, yet I suddenly realized that there was very little I knew or understood about it.  I felt this need to know.  I bought Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis.  Word on the street is the book is a good, readable introduction to Christianity.

A little later, I began to feel this pull to go to Trinity.  I can’t quite explain it.  It’s all jumbled up with boarding school and religion.  I felt this desire to hear the music.  Anglican/Episcopalian music kicks ass.  It beats Unitarian Universalist music.  The Anglicans have gravitas.  We UUs have, as my friend put it, “Mary Tyle Moore with a guitar.”  Not that UU music is completely atrocious.  There have been moments in church where I’ve found it comforting.  But it rarely blows me away the way Epsicopalian music does.  Maybe it’s because they have better organs.  Or maybe it’s just the music.

I first heard Episcopalian music in boarding school.  The first two years I was there we had an organist who knew how to rock out the chapel’s pipes.  It was magnificent.  But I hated chapel.  I hated being forced to go to chapel on Mondays, Wednesdays,  Thursdays, and certain Sundays.  I hated saying prayers that referenced the Trinity.  I hated that my Hindu and Jewish friends were forced to go.  It was oppressive.  It gave me a very bad impression of Episcopalianism.

But I loved the music.

So I found myself going to Trinity Church last Sunday because I hated chapel at boarding school but I really, really wanted to hear the music.  And I wanted to make sense of Christianity.  And maybe my past.  I think I’ve been needing some sort of reconciliation with boarding school.  I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s some sort of need there.


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