I realize I was asked to give an affirmation....and not a confession. But I am going to start with a few small confessions....
I confess that I might have started coming to church for the wrong reasons. I might have walked into an episcopal church soon after I moved to the Deep South - because I was homesick for New England - and the stone church looked like 'home'. I might have started attending church because I thought I was missing out.....and hoped that I would realize that I wasn't missing out. I might have started to come because I wanted to give my children something to reject.... My greatest confession is that I don't always get it.....I don't 'believe like a child' and I'm afraid I never will.
I give you these confessions to tell you that even with all my foibles, fears, and insecurities, that I have been welcomed at St. Alban's for over 15 years. This is a cozy place for me. I imagine the warmth and security here as a tapestry.....for those who don't know, I am a bit of a crafty lover of all things fiber and fabric, so this analogy works for me.
Like all tapestries, the tapestry of St. Alban's is made up of lots of individual threads. I envision the game in which people stand in a circle, throwing a ball of yarn from one person to the next, each holding on to the thread then passing it along. Soon there is a web and as more and more connections are made ....and the yarn winds and weaves around the circle, and we create a unified tapestry.
I see St. Alban's as a loom....a framework on which to build our warm, faithful, loving tapestry. The thread that runs between us is the magic of God. We are standing in this circle, in this church, because we are meant to be here. Even those like me with doubt and wonder, are welcome in this circle and are privileged to be warm and cozy under the tapestry of St. Alban's.
Although we are all a part of one unified tapestry, our views of it are wonderfully unique. If you saw the tapestry from where I stand, you'd see my thread run to Wendy, who was my neighbor in bell choir for many years....and laughed with me at all my ringing mistakes. There is a thread to Rose, with whom I baked communion bread years ago and started a warm friendship. And a yarn connects me to Maura, my brave Connect teaching partner (and my confidant in my efforts to mother a newly minted teenager). There is sweet Audrey who came to my messy house to meet a two week old magical baby Andy (who is now the aforementioned newly minted teenager). I have a warm thread to Gracie, who could make me cry each week with her warm hug and greeting. A thread runs to Katie and Peg, my roommates at my first vestry retreat years ago. Chris shared his living room with me and listened to my sacred story. I have dozens of threads collected at our monthly blood pressure screenings - I am so lucky to have a few sacred, quiet moments with so many.
Our threads are not only created by action, quiet moments also create ties - the comfort of a beloved hymn, the words of the sermon, watching an adorable wee parishioners go to and from communion.
We have threads connecting outside these walls - to Haiti and to the essentials pantry and the soup kitchen. Some threads are sent with our christmas packages to the families of the root cellar. We too have yarns spun from loss, death, grief, fear and disappointment. Our warm tapestry gets stronger, no matter the source of the thread. I have so many threads connecting to those I miss, Tristan and Ruth and Gail and Ed.
This affirmation has allowed me to be mindful and grateful of the tapestry of St. Alban's. The magic of this place is woven by all of us - with all our gifts, foibles, friendships, sorrows and joys - we are so fortunate to have this framework of St. Alban's that allows each if us to be part of something so rich. I hope we can all be open to catch that ball of yarn when it is thrown - and pass it on with some of our faith and love.
No matter the reasons I walked through the door, here I am wrapped in warmth and love and for this I am eternally grateful.