Two weeks ago I got to be a minor celebrity at Trinity Covenant Church in Lexington. I was late, in keeping with my general manner of doing things, and slipped in so sneakily that I was practically invisible. I couldn't have been any more invisible had I beamed myself through the door and into the back most pew in the church. But then I opened up my program and saw my name there, in black and white. Welcome it said to our special guest Dawn Swann. And then it went on to ask God to bless my ministry. My ministry?? When did I become important enough to have a ministry - me (!)? A message ? Suddenly my little project has taken on a new dimension. A new life. I am suddenly responsible for more than just satisfying my own curiosity. There is a need to answer. There are people who are watching. I think that I should be saying thank you. What an amazing gift.



But, back to TCC and it's pastor, Doug Cederburg. There never has been a more charismatic and passionate speaker. He could have spoken Swahili or Chinese or really fast pig Latin and I'd have been as enthralled by the delivery, the inflections. He could have moved me in any language is what I'm trying to say. My editor told me this week that an article I was working on was beginning to sound like a MASH note. I don't mean to write love letters about the people I meet. But I do tend to fall in love with the ideas and the passion and the purpose people bring to the pulpit and to the pew. I am so enchanted by the fact that so many people go to church every week. There are a gazillion churches here and all of them have people. What brings them? What drives them?

Pastor Cederbug spoke of what it feels like to be on the outside - a place where so many of us have found ourselves at one time or another. He spoke of separating theology and sociology and the importance of being nonjudgmental. And that could be the most difficult thing for a human being to do. Scientists have said that our brain automatically sorts, categorizes and saves things for future use. We have a hard time not judging the book by it's cover. Look at what judging has brought us - terrorism, war, racial and religious segregation, no place to sit in the cafeteria...

Last week I was supposed to go to a Jewish Temple but my liaison was unable to meet me so instead I went to an Episcopalian church in Wayland with some precious friends. I'd been to the church before so I was a bit unsure of whether or not I was cheating. But I wasn't. For one thing, I usually only attend the Christmas Pageant service so I'm distracted by 1. The pageant and 2. the fact that my youngest daughter has the ability to channel any cast out demons and then broadcast pure evil to those around her. Then I, being especially open to the power of suggestion, become evil as well and the two of us usually end up performing a bastardized version of Godzilla vs. Mothra with me as Godzilla and her evading my every attempt to shook her out of the sky with my laser eyeballs. I like the Episcopalians because they remind me of the Catholics, the denomination I inherited from my father. But then they throw in these surprise twists like letting the priest's wife officiate and changing a few of the words in my old familiar prayers to keep me on my toes. And I've been away from familiarity long enough to truly feel at home. I'm sure I'll say that again in the weeks to come when I go home to my original parish with my friend Arby. Another thing these Episcopalians did differently was communion. Everyone went to the front of the church and knelt down by the rail and waited for communion to come to them. But I stayed in my pew and thought about the Nicene Creed and wondered about the virgin birth and decided that the whole plot would make a kick ass science fiction novel. At some point the power went out and I thought that perhaps I better quit before I found myself at the business end of a lighting bolt.