Ritual

I love a good ritual.



Really, Renee? Do you really LOVE rituals? Or is "good" the operative term here? And, if so, what makes something a "good" ritual?


Jeez, Inner Critic, back off, will you?? I haven't written a "real" blog post in a long time--and here you are making me all self-conscious!


That's not my intent. I'm just trying to keep you honest. Hadn't you decided that being honest and straightforward were core values for you?


Yes, that's true.


All right, let me try this again. "Love" is probably too strong a word. But there's no single word that captures it for me. I know that I need ritual in my life, and I feel sense of longing if I don't have something to fill that void.


I think I am also drawn to rituals--especially important ones. Like a moth to a flame. Or a bit of metal to a magnet.


Then there's just plain old curiosity. As in, "I had no idea there was an official ritual for that. I wonder what that's like..."


I think that last one was the clincher that compelled me, like iron filings are compelled toward a magnet, to drive downtown today (when I "should" have been scoring math responses to earn money) for the deconsecration of the former Saint Paul's Episcopal Church on Broad Street.


Quite often I find that I have a number of reasons for doing a particular thing. The more good reasons I can think of, the better the chances I will be able to turn impulse into action.

On any given night I might go out to sing karaoke. I can change my clothes, touch up my makeup, and then sit down and start fiddling with something on the computer. I'll look up at the clock from time to time until I finally sigh and say to myself, "Not tonight, I guess..." and then change clothes again for bed.


So I didn't even click "maybe" on the Facebook invite. The decision was truly last minute. I did some water aerobics and then looked at the invite again on my phone. Oh--I'd forgotten this part--the Bishop is going to be there. So it's an Important Ritual. I am SO going to this! (I misspoke a few paragraphs ago--this was the clincher.)


And I'm glad that Rev. Cricket Park had the idea to celebrate one last Eucharist in the church. I was one of a congregation of six that were gathered around the altar when the service began, and gradually more people began to trickle in. At some point Bishop Breidenthal arrived, but I didn't notice him right away. I think I recognized him just as he was about to take communion from Cricket.


Growing up in the Catholic church, the priesthood was always off limits to me. Now that I have been Episcopalian for almost a decade, the novelty of women as priests has worn off slightly. But as I was taking in this scene of a female priest serving communion to the Bishop of the Diocese of Southern Ohio, something inside me screamed, "This is so freaking cool!"


I'll try to make up some of that math scoring time tomorrow. This was an experience worth participating in.