A few months back, I was at a wedding in Guatemala City. I’d been warned that it would be a full hour-and-a-half-long service. Worse, the acoustics of the room, while friendly to Gregorian chanters, were less so to a speaking voice. As much of this service would be in muffled, aurally confounding Spanish, I knew I wasn’t going to understand a thing.
I was distracted and fidgety even before the service began. This often happens to me in churches. Maybe it’s the feeling of enforced duty. Maybe it is that I feel more disconnected from God in a church than practically anywhere else in the world. For me it often feels like the church building itself is a shield through which radiant thoughts cannot pass.
Still, I’ve trained myself to behave for the few hours every year I’m required to be in a traditional house of worship. But it requires focus and a mental detachment from my surroundings if I don’t want to break out in hives.
And I’m speaking literally about the hives. Something very similar happens when… full story HERE »
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