God, bagels and community

Community is an integral part of a spiritual and religious life. I was baptized into a church community when I was ten days old, and was part of it for my whole childhood. I knew which woman was known for baking especially good cakes. I knew that two women who always came together were sisters and one was caring for the other who had very crippling arthritis. I knew which men were ushers and which families were related. I knew who rang the church bell and where the bell rope hung. When I came back from Communion, I could expect that my grandmother, always so warm and loving, would not see me for she would be deep in prayer. However, my grandfather, generally a serious man, would give me an exaggerated wink as I passed their pew.

When Paul and I were first married, we were blessed to become part of a church community. For the next thirty years, this community gave us treasured friends, celebrated the baptisms of our babies and helped us raise our children to feel loved by God, it got us through the deaths of both of Paul's parents, and fed us lots of doughnuts over the years. It was because of that community that my spirituality became an adult experience, and it was there that I shared times of truly feeling the presence of God. When that time ended, I was bereft for two years.

When Spirit of Truth began regular services, I decided I’d go a couple of Sundays, never expecting it to become my main spiritual community. However, by the second time, I knew these were people with whom I could again feel the presence of God. I had a new home.

Bagels instead of doughnuts, but still the same God.