It seems that every time I go to write on this thing, I wind up rambling on about church or social justice issues or some such thing. It may give the impression that I sit around thinking about this stuff all day long. That would be a fine impression to make but it’s not true. I suppose it’s just what I’m drawn to write about and most of my thoughts on pop culture are better documented elsewhere. Last week I saw a headline about Jessica Simpson’s exes and it was bugging me for a while that I was missing one. Nick Lachey, John Mayer, Tony Romo… who else?! No, not Adam Levine. I think those were just rumors. Oh yeah... Billy Corgan...how could I forgot about him?!
With that said, welcome to another post about church and social justice crap. This time the topic: dead people and communion! What’s up with both of those crazy things?! Yesterday was the All Saint’s Day service at church. That’s the day where we reflect on those that went before us- particularly those that died this year. As I sat there thinking about the people I know that died this year, it started to sound like the beginning of a joke. “A niece, an aunt, an uncle, a surrogate grandmother, parents’ friends, some friends’ parents, some friends’ pets and Clarence Clemons are at the pearly gates...” But the end of that one, at least in my mind, is: “and you have no idea what the fuck happened to any of them.” What a knee-slapper!
I do love the All Saints Day service. It was jam packed with great music. I had the privilege of singing a number of festive songs about death with a great group of people. I’m a sucker for depressing music so musical reminders of mortality are right in my wheelhouse. While we practiced the harmonies on “We Shall Never Die," Rebecca gave us the upbeat friendly reminder, “The lyric is we shall never never die”…BUT…we will! We sing it with hope that we won’t, knowing that we will!” Yay! Throw in the dirgey shape note song that is a beautiful assault on the eardrums beginning with the line “And am I born to die...to lay this body down...” and I’m in heaven. So to speak.
Earlier in the day I heard the song “Aeroplane Over the Sea” by Neutral Milk Hotel. The lyrics to that come close to my thoughts on life and death. I love the final line: Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all.
Then there’s the topic of communion. I would guess that most people, whether they’ve ever been to a Christian church or not, are familiar with the concept of communion. You get a piece of bread...they tell you it’s the Body of Christ. You drink some wine or grape juice…Blood of Christ. I grew up going to Catholic Church every single Sunday so receiving Communion was a normal part of my week. That said, I have always and still do think it’s some completely insane shit. But, there’s also something I have always loved about it. I love ritual. I like candlelight. I like when everyone, including myself, stops yammering on about stuff for a few minutes. I love mystery and understanding being all intertwined. I love food. I love sharing food with people.
But then there’s the Jesus part.
When it comes to that guy, I have NO CLUE what I believe. My feelings and thoughts have changed over the years, but as of this moment, I am perfectly content being clueless. If Jesus was just a hippy that wanted to hang out with hookers and drug addicts and feed the hungry and invited his pals to dinner and that turned into hundreds of years of communion being celebrated every week, I’m fine with it. I don’t know that it’s anything more than just a piece of bread dipped in some grape juice, but I don’t really know for sure that it’s anything less than a miracle. What I do know is that it’s a ritual that my parents hold, and their parents held, sacred. I love the thought that I’m part of a ritual that has been practiced for hundreds of years, and still continues to happen, all over the world. I love the thought that people are taking even a small moment out of their week to think about things on another level. Whether it’s how to be a better person, being thankful, seeking change, wondering about God, or just showing up and being quiet, and listening to whatever happens in silence...I like it. Opening doors, welcoming absolutely anyone who comes in, and offering a meal- that’s just about the most basic and most beautiful thing I can think of. It’s why Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It’s why I love Passover Seders. Food and community…it’s a winning combo.
Last night when I received communion, I thought…is this God? Then I thought about all those that I know that have died. Every person I’ve met has left their mark on me and is still alive in me and the rest of the people they’ve touched. This simple piece of bread came to me after farmers and cooks and drivers did their part. None of it could be possible without those on whose shoulders we now stand. I am here because of them. I have food and water and love and shelter because of them. Others may go to communion and find it creepy and weird and not their style. But for me, it evokes peace and love and connection to my family and those that have passed away and the connections of the strangers and friends that surround me in that moment. So yeah, I’m pretty sure anything that does all that is God.
I could stare at this computer screen and think similar thoughts- my ability to connect with friends and family all over the world in an instant is directly related to the gifts of all of those who came before me. So yes, in that way, God is in my laptop.
Point for the Jesuits. Four years of college education and they got me on board with their whole “God is in all things” bit.
All of this reminds me of a passage from the story “The Third and Final Continent” by Jhumpa Lahiri, which I just read last week. The whole story was beautiful but this particular paragraph really got me:
“While the astronauts, heroes forever, spent mere hours on the moon, I have remained in this new world for nearly thirty years. I know that my achievement is quite ordinary. I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination."
Those feelings and thoughts of wonder and awe and love and appreciation that are beyond my imagination...being blown away by how extraordinary the ordinary is...that's what I call God.
(I don't think Jessica Simpson ever actually dated Dane Cook. I think they were just friends from when they were in "Employee of the Month" together.)
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