Before you think I’ve flipped my lid, understand that in the majority of the United States, one can only access the interior of most churches during their scheduled services. I love architecture in its many forms. Since moving to Connecticut, I have been fascinated by the colonial era structures that operate today.
I love this 17th century building and its steeple; I can see it from miles away when I run across the Connecticut River. I have admired its details from the outside for months, sitting on a bench nearby, often thinking of my Grandfather with whom I felt safe walking into church in Hungary. He didn’t complicate things for me. He had us sit, stare at the vastness around us, and would encourage me to feel grateful for what was going well, because it’s from gratitude that happiness flows. I have tested this many times in many decades, and he is unequivocally correct. Makes my heart full just writing this right now.
I ran my long run yesterday because it was a gorgeous New England autumn day and I am a newcomer to those, but I did want to get a walk in today before the rain set in. Eventually, I rested on what has become my bench, and then realized I was on the perimeter of church rush-hour. This was my impromptu chance to go inside. I felt very much like a foreigner, but far too curious not to slip in with the last of the stragglers.
It was gorgeous inside, even better maintained than I had anticipated. Its massive ceilings are flawless and bright, and subtly follow the three-ship European tradition, as does the geometry of its piercing steeple. I loved it. A very nice usher (I guess, whatever the greeter is called, OK, maybe just greeter?) welcomed me with zero expectations or awkwardness and I appreciated that. She even motioned me to the balcony seating, which gave me a phenomenal view.
I wholly enjoyed my first few minutes, still noticing the genius adaptations between old and new features of a living building, but eventually the people-part, the institutional routine began to interrupt. Isn’t it always the people who ruin church?
I was beginning to notice the terminology that is now even more jarring to me than it was before, the continuous reference to this male external entity with a temper worse than mine. Yep, we should all be hyper-vigilant about keeping in his good graces! What a neat and tidy programming for living in the patriarchy. Can someone please label this guy a toxic narcissist already?
What happened next, was bewildering to me. The second in command on the stage (can’t think of the correct name and don’t wish to look it up), called for all of the children to come and gather so they can listen to something important. It was sweet, until it wasn’t. The children ran up there and mostly intently listened to what essentially became a fundraiser for a faraway mission trip, both geographically and calendar-wise. Whatever this had to do with children, I don’t know, because they didn’t explain, so there is no way the children understood. Nonetheless, the transaction occurred, too abstract for the young audience, yet heavy on the ritual. This is when I had an epiphany. Stay with me…or not. I won’t explain it too closely so as not to invite more wrath than necessary.
Today is October 11, and it is an important day for the LGBTQ+ community. It is our National Coming Out Day.
I am not insinuating this church is plotting against LGBTQ people; quite the opposite! They have a handsome, rainbow-laden “All are Welcome” sign out front, and they own it. I saw queer people in the audience. I really appreciate it. I do believe it’s a church of lovely people, and many like it are out there.
I am referencing the mechanism or psychology of bringing children along in the church, any church. Watching children ushered to the front to absorb an abstract institutional campaign made the broader cultural projection glaringly obvious. The hardline, fundamentalist institutions that relentlessly accuse the LGBTQ+ community of recruiting and indoctrinating children are merely projecting their own playbook. They assume everyone else is recruiting because organized religion relies on the systematic, generational transmission of its own machinery before critical thinking can intervene. Something about a pot and a kettle…
I promise I meant to just see the inside of this church, but, well, here it is.
Leave a Reply