We haven't been in about 10 months. Maybe 9. I can't remember when we last went. Doug decided a long time ago that the Episcopal Church wasn't his thing. Not because of the gay thing, but because
- he just doesn't feel the liturgy.
- he didn't find people there friendly,
- he interpreted their coming up to him and saying "Well, we haven't seen YOU for a while, how are things?" as a personal attack towards his not going to church enough. And that bugged him.
Can't say as I blame him.
Add to that the new pastor didn't really have a message for us. It seemed like a lot of her sermons were geared toward people in very different places than we were in our faith. A lot of "It's okay if you left the Catholic Church. We're here for you" kind of stuff. A lot about healing after divorce. A lot of ... dare I say it... womany stuff.
And I'm not into the whole Women's Ministry stuff, and neither is Doug. So. It just wasn't our cuppa.
So we worshiped with our feet. We spent an incredible amount of Sunday mornings driving out of the driveway at 9:30 am as the church bell rang to call us to service... and headed to the woods to cache. I wouldn't trade it for the world.
But. Doug has been thinking a lot lately that we should get back to going. I agree. Jessica is really not caring at all about anything other than her friends and when she can go to bed... she seems like she's missing something. Geoff has a wellspring of faith and a huge love for God that needs to go somewhere. And Sunday School would be a good place for that to happen.
Today, we went somewhere that spoke to Doug's roots. A Presbyterian Church. I went to a Presbyterian church when I was in youth group in High School, and really liked it. It was painless. Everyone was friendly. I liked the pastor a lot, and he sponsored me for going to College, something I'll be forever thankful to him for.
The folks here were friendly, and they did a good job with things. The choir was small but ... exuberant! Jeesh were they ever. Maracas and bongos at one point. Not my thing, but I give them credit for the multicultural effort.
Geoff willingly and wantingly left for Sunday School. I walked him in and introduced him to the director. She welcomed him and said that she's got a lot of experience with ADHD kids, and that more than half of the ones in the room right then were kids with special needs. He introduced himself to a bunch of kids, with hand outstretched for a shake, and they shook back and sucked him in. Happy to have him.
I'm used to kids turning their backs on Geoff because he's all "Hey Dude, My name's Geoff! What's Your name! I like your shirt. I have one like it! Hey do you like ..." and that's too much for most kids so they just shut him off.
So it was nice to see him immediately settle in.
And the pastor did a really lovely sermon on hands. He framed his sermon around the sculptor Rodin, and his works. How Rodin was virtually obsessed with hands, showing their power, their strength. He then compared individual sculptures by Rodin to Christ's hands through his ministry, building each time to finally a giant hand of anger juxtaposed against Christ's pierced hands on the cross.
He encouraged us to go out this week and use our hands. Because there were hands that gave, loved, and died so ours could do things freely.
I wonder if he's a product of a college like the one I went to -- seeing literature, history, art, sculpture and all sorts of angles of the liberal arts through eyes of faith. My College Friends hopefully will laugh and agree that he's most likely the product of an undergraduate program like ours.
Anyway -- as we were leaving church with our palms (Geoff calls them Leaf Whips so we had to make sure that he didn't use his in that manner) a huge eagle flew over us. It reminded me of a couple of July 4ths ago when we were at Aaron and Michelle's and an eagle flew over the party and Geoff yelled "Let Freedom Ring!!!"
It was a good service. I am very glad we went.
Then, when we got home we went caching. Of course. Found two of three, and at one spot the apprentice saw mill operator (Taylor Mill, Derry NH) came out and asked us if we wanted a tour. So we went in and hung out with him. He was a really young guy, and Geoff called him a hobo... because he had a huge Zeke beard and a ratty ponytail.
Like I said, most people turn their backs and walk away from Geoff. We need to work on that with him. Don't say "Okay, hobo. I'll come see your saw thingie" but say "Sounds nice, sir."
I need to get dinner started. I can't believe it's this late (6pm) already. Meh! More later.