Today I played some music after church. There's nothing inherently noteworthy about that, but it was remarkable for me. Let me explain. For the past year and a half we have been attending church services at the local Episcopal church here in town. It is a wonderful, welcoming place with amazing people who are some of the nicest, most caring people I have ever met. We have quickly become reasonably active members of the church and we could not feel more welcomed. I love our new church.
But I have a problem. I grew up Catholic. I was married in the Catholic Church. My kids were baptized in the Catholic Church. Over the years I was an altar server, an usher, a lector, a eucharistic minister, and a music minister. I even (briefly) considered the priesthood when I was in college. My Catholic roots run deep in my biological family, as well as in my married family. I have always felt like a Catholic to my core. All of which leads one to wonder "Why are you not attending the Catholic Church?"
Simply, the Catholic Church is not the place it once was, not the place it needs to be. In some places, including in our town until a few years ago, the local parish runs interference between the harsh legalism and clericalism of the Church as a whole. Those places made the Catholic Church feel like home. But in the spring of 2018, there was a change made in our local parish. Our wonderful, loving priest left and was replaced by a harsh, authoritarian, backwards-looking, imperious priest whose only goal seemed to be dismantling everything that was remotely welcoming or inclusive. The worst of our community's instincts were brought to the surface. We tried to make it work for 18 months, but when I was excluded from communion because of the way I was receiving the cup, I could do it no longer. We tried other nearby churches, even driving over 30 miles away, but they all had the same issues, more or less. In despair we tried our local Episcopal church and we immediately realized it was a good place for us. It's not a perfect fit, but it's close.
So why the existential crisis? Simply put, I know what the Catholic Church can be. I know that it can be as inclusive as our new church, because I have seen it. I know it can be loving and welcoming, because it used to be. I know it can focus on common faith and love. But I also know that the global church insists on excluding some of the people I love most in the world, either completely, in the case of my LGBTQ+ family and friends, or by marginalizing the women I love and care about. Our local church, which once mitigated that damage, now gleefully amplifies it. What was once a beautiful, holy, welcoming, warm, energetic place that I loved to be, has now become a somber, angry, isolated place. I can't even think about it without mourning what we've lost.
Which brings me (finally) to the music this morning. Our Episcopal church is very traditional in its music. I don't know whether that is unique to our local church and its predominantly older congregation, or if it is a part of the church as a whole. I appreciate it for what it is, but it doesn't really speak to me. So, this morning, I got out my guitar and a modern Catholic setting of Psalm 23 that I dearly love. As I sang it, I found myself fighting back tears. It hurt to know that the church I loved and worked in for 47 years, the church that made me understand that God truly loves everyone, the church that once gave me life, no longer wants me or my family. And it breaks my heart.
