I grew up going to church every Sunday. When I went to college, I chose LSU because of the Episcopal student center. I joined the music group. We sang folk songs to guitar and piano. For the Eucharist on Sunday night, we would gather around the altar in a circle and pass the bread and wine to each other. This service was intimate and sincere.
I also love a high church service complete with smells and bells, a full four-part choir with men and women processing in robes, banners waving.
The church I attend weekly is a historical Episcopal church dating back to 1857. The sanctuary was used as a hospital in the Civil War. We still have two of the pews that were used as horse troughs. You can see the holes that were bored for drainage. I sing in the choir loft that was once a loft for slaves. If the walls and windows and pews could speak…
Why church? Not because I’ve always gone. Not because of the building or the traditions.
Church is home. Church is community.
Church is a place where God is always present.
I go to church because I would feel incomplete without it.
The words inspire me.
The people love me.
The Eucharist nourishes me.