Community

There's a Facebook page for people who grew up in East Hampton and its full of memory ticklers and old photos of places long gone. People post questions like "What happened to _____?" (possibly a former teacher or local character of some type) and they make comments about the "old days", sometimes sad, sometimes funny, and always thought-provoking. I check it regularly to catch up on the latest discussions about the things of our youth.

Last Sunday was Palm Sunday and as I sat in the choir loft looking out over the full congregation I was struck at how similar church is to that FB page. And my conclusion is that there is great comfort in the familiar things in our lives - in the things we hold onto in our memories that make us smile when they come to mind. Church does that for me. Of course there are spiritual reasons I attend faithfully, but I also find my "center" there. It has to do with the old familiar hymns I learned as a child, the scripture verses that have always comforted me, and the people who surround me there, reminding me that I belong to a community. I'm not an island unto myself, despite what any poem my say, but I am part of the whole which makes up this place I call home. And rubbing elbows every week with members of that extended family in church makes me remember that I have responsibilities and obligations to them as well as to the larger community as a whole. It's that community that came together to worship on 9-11 and that community that rallied around me when I was being treated for cancer and that community that I know will be here for my children and my grandchildren in the future.

Now I know why its not only the spiritual comfort that I feel when I leave the sanctuary every Sunday morning. It's all about community in all its forms, whether on Facebook or at church. We are there for each other.