Ever get so Churched you get Churched out?
This is how it feels to me at the moment, almost like a disconnection where God is concerned… well not with God but where I experience God. One of the dangers of working for the Church, and going to Church, and studying Church, and socialising Church… is that there are times when I want to scream at all things Church to just get over yourself and back off!
This is a full on time, we are fast approaching Synod and all around me tensions are rising, people are wound too steps too tight on the sensitivity front , factions are aligning and consolidating and dissolving, administrators are being stretched to the limit and me I am watching this bazarness unfold before me with a vague sense I should be interested.
This is how it feels to me at the moment, almost like a disconnection where God is concerned… well not with God but where I experience God. One of the dangers of working for the Church, and going to Church, and studying Church, and socialising Church… is that there are times when I want to scream at all things Church to just get over yourself and back off!
This is a full on time, we are fast approaching Synod and all around me tensions are rising, people are wound too steps too tight on the sensitivity front , factions are aligning and consolidating and dissolving, administrators are being stretched to the limit and me I am watching this bazarness unfold before me with a vague sense I should be interested.
In the past when things were stressful, Church was my solace rather than the protagonist. I am usually a full on liturgy girl, the way it holds me, the shape of it, the taste of it, the way that it acts as an access point for making a connection with my community and with God in the Eucharist is profound for me. This week though something has happened, I feel like I have overloaded somewhere and God feels a distant presence. In Church on Sunday the absence of feeling was so intense that I almost ached. I did my reading, and then sitting there what kept going through my head was “What am I doing here?
And I left, just snuck out before the Eucharist. Now understand me here, the Eucharist for me is central, it is everything. It is what fills me up, it is where I bring my brokenness before God where I gaze at God and God gazes back. Then the next morning at staff Eucharist I once more made my apologises. At some distant head level I find this curious, I watch my self in meetings, teaching all those things as if I were in a play.
I am not sure what else to say really…
What I know though is that if I have any desire at this moment it is to earth myself. To stand on the port hills and let the winds carry my scream, to fall on my knees and bury my hands deep in the earth, to sit with my feet in a tidal pool for a day till my toes become like yams and the water has run its full cycle.
And I left, just snuck out before the Eucharist. Now understand me here, the Eucharist for me is central, it is everything. It is what fills me up, it is where I bring my brokenness before God where I gaze at God and God gazes back. Then the next morning at staff Eucharist I once more made my apologises. At some distant head level I find this curious, I watch my self in meetings, teaching all those things as if I were in a play.
I am not sure what else to say really…
What I know though is that if I have any desire at this moment it is to earth myself. To stand on the port hills and let the winds carry my scream, to fall on my knees and bury my hands deep in the earth, to sit with my feet in a tidal pool for a day till my toes become like yams and the water has run its full cycle.
All suggestions greatfully accepted
