Present Over Perfect

asked me about the gathering, about what Aaron’s doing
these days. My friend was raised Catholic but isn’t religious.
I told him what Aaron’s created is more like the masses he
grew up going to, in some ways—creeds, written prayers,
hymns, practices that originated in the Catholic church, like
lectio divina and the Ignatian prayer of imagination. I could
see the wheels turning in his mind as I explained.
He said, “When I go to your church, it’s like a breath of
fresh air from what I grew up with.”
“Exactly,” I said, “and this is a breath of fresh air from
what we grew up with.” I told him it was like we all grow up
with half a pie, and part of being an adult person of faith is
finding the rest of your pie.
I absolutely love our church—it’s my sister, my home.
My parents started our church the year before I was born,
and it’s been a constant in my life, a central part of the story
of my family, and of my own life. This fall, we celebrated
the church’s fortieth anniversary, and it was such a tender,
proud moment for my parents and my brother and me. We
looked at each other almost in awe that four weirdos like us
got to be a part of something so beautiful. We prayed such
deeply felt prayers of gratitude, and we drew close to one
another, telling old stories, laughing and crying together.
And the journey of the Practice, and the voices we’re
learning from in that community, is helping to fill the other
half of the pie, and I’m so thankful for that, too.
We attended a Shabbat service at a Reformed synagogue
recently, because the Jewish tradition has so much to teach