“The lack of mystery in our modern life is our downfall and our poverty. …We retain the child in us to the extent that we honor the mystery.” ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer
There is something resplendent and transcendent about entering a historic church at any time of year. I recently visited St. Michael’s Episcopal Church in the heart of Bristol, Rhode Island during their worship hours. The church, built in 1718, brought back memories of going with my grandmother, when I was a little girl, to her place of worship at the The Church of the Messiah (also an Episcopal Church) in the neighborhood of Hamilton, Baltimore, Maryland
I sat feeling very peaceful in the pew at St. Michael’s where so many before me have sat in respite and in need of rejuvenation. My thoughts drifted back to when I was a child seeing the elaborate rituals preparing for communion at the altar table. I was filled with mystery about the meaning behind the methodology the pastor used involving the chalice and the covering/uncovering and folding/unfolding of the cup with linen.
The wonder and awe behind the biblical Christmas story also transports me back to my childhood. I never tire of it. Does hearing it do the same for you?