Church? Who, me?
A Farewell to Pastor Alex
I kept this to myself for a few days before deciding to put it on the whole wide internet. I wrote it sincerely on Sunday, and mean it sincerely today. Religion and spirituality can be tricky subjects to navigate online and in real life. I hope you know what I mean.
Bottling Up Some Joy
Today is Sunday, and I just got home from my friend Alex’s final service as a Presbyterian pastor at 1st Presbyterian Church of Arlington Heights, IL.
First thought here - I am not a “church” person.
Second thought - if/when I ever formally leave nursing, I’d like to send myself off with a farewell to the tune of Alex’s summer of sermons.
Alex has been in service of First Pres for ten years, and though I only joined in the fun about 1.5 years ago, I can see what a difference he’s made in the community he helped build. The number of people who showed up for today’s service was astounding. The pews were packed elbow-to-elbow with folks across the age spectrum, gathering to share a space and feel something together. It’s possible that some in attendance were “glad” to see him go, though from the telling of the changes the congregation has gone through in the last decade, I think most of them have already left and found pastors who were more in alignment with their values or church preferences.
The vibe I got, and what I think was in the air, was a feeling of joyful celebration of time well-served, for a human who worked hard to bring a masterful sermon every week.
A Brief History
I was brought to First Pres via a series of serendipitous moments of conversation, a podcast, a book, and then bravely stepping in to get a taste of what was happening in church.
Here’s the short version:
A new friend (whose story in my life is also a fun weaving of happenstance), suggested a podcast called “Restorative Faith”. I had told her that I was on a spiritual journey of agnosticism and couldn’t quite find a box in which my beliefs/thoughts/feelings fit. Listening to this podcast on the Christian faith, its tangled history, and its present state, was thought-provoking. I had dabbled in Christianity as a kid/teen, then wandered far away as I went off to college. I don’t ascribe to the faith of Santa-Jesus-God-In-The-Sky-Seeing-Judging-All-That-We-Do… But it sure sounds like Jesus was a really incredible human during his time on earth.
With that said, I then came to the book “Restorative Faith” which dives in deeper and walks through different stories in the bible, and unbundling fact from myth to make the bible a bit more digestible for my modern-day brain. (There’s also a blog for those with shorter attention spans).
Alex Lang was the author/creator of both. When I looked him up, I discovered he was a pastor at a church in Arlington Heights (my old stomping grounds in high school, and a half-hour ride up the highway from my home now). Thanks to the pandemic, services were being live-streamed on the First Pres website so I started dabbling from home for a while. Getting a taste of church from the safety of my home, without the awkwardness of being immersed as a stranger in a strange land.
I liked what I heard in Alex’s sermons. They weren’t all “Jesus is the boss and you better watch out and be nice or you’re going to hell”. It was more, “here’s a story from the bible, and how it applies to modern day real-life humans”. What I heard continued to resonate with me, so I decided to do the unthinkable. I went to church.
The “C” Word
In my home, Church feels like the “C-Word”. My parents are “nones” when it comes to religion, and my husband grew up in a town that (I’ve heard) is the the highest number of churches per capita in the country? Maybe just in the state of IL. (I’m just going to repeat it as fact here and decide later if I’ll verify with the internet). (Ok - on rereading, I went to google).
Regardless, it felt a little… weird… saying I wanted to go to church. My husband, for the first time in our relationship, was not really happy with my decision. I’ll leave it at that. It was uncomfortable. But I went anyway. I wanted to, felt called to do so, and told myself I could always just not go again if anything felt weird. You know? Weird? Cultish? Woo woo? I don’t know what I expected, but it was just — uncomfortable.
I had a lovely time, met some nice people, and heard a lovely service that felt like a podcast episode, some good music, in a lovely building in the middle of downtown Arlington Heights (which, by the way, has the most active and welcoming downtown space of any I’ve been to, comparable only to Woodstock, IL and their town square).
I’ve been going for a while, and over time, Alex, his wife Courtney, and I have become friends. Alex and I have especially rapped about Healthcare and the Church and the spiral we’ve both been witnessing throughout our careers. I’ll leave our conversations at that.
Their Community, Not Mine
It’s kind of felt like I was going to see a friend perform for a venue of people who regularly attend. I never got the sense that anyone was there out of obligation. We all gathered because we wanted to be there.
And now, I know, that I will likely rarely or never attend again.
Alex said in his service today – “don’t do that” – but I’m the exception. Most of the people who attend live in that area (which is a half-hour drive down the highway from my home, eating up an hour of my precious Sunday every week… it adds up). That is their community. The service they attend, the acts of service they perform, are in service of their own town, its people, and the community around them.
I’ve been a non-player character through most of the last 1.5 years. Now, that’s not to say that folks haven’t been welcoming. They have! I’ve gotten to know a few people and I made sure to say hi today in the sea of many many more unfamiliar faces than ever before.
But the church is not my home. The people are in their community. They are them. A welcoming them. Kind, compassionate, light humans who gather to hear a message of hope, love, and community each week.
What I’ve gotten from my time at First Pres is the feeling, the vibe, the vision of what, how, where, and why a community forms.
I’ve gained understanding and insight into faith traditions. Dogma. Ethos. Religion. Faith. Spirituality. Humans.
I have learned and grown in my time there. And it is unequivocally because of Alex, his tenacity, and his ability to make the words of the bible and the life of Jesus much more digestible to my sciency nursery agnostic brain.
I do not identify as a “Christian”. I don’t wear one of those T necklaces or say “Hail Mary’s” or carry a rosary. I see the rituals, I honor that they are meaningful to those who practice them, and I choose not to participate if they don’t resonate with me. And I know that I will be accepted for however I choose to participate, or not. I’ve gotten very comfortable going, or not going, with the flow in a group setting.
That is growth for me.
Showing Up — Witnessing — Unapologetically
I move when I feel called to dance. I sing when I feel moved to song. I cry when my feelings overwhelm and my face starts to leak.
There is beauty all around us. The service today was beautiful. Joyful and sad. Light-hearted, funny. A fond farewell to a friend whose service has truly made a difference in the lives of others.
I am so grateful to have been there. I stood witness. And was witnessed.
To be seen is the greatest gift we can give another. (did I make that up or am I quoting someone?).
Once again, the internet provides:
“I believe the greatest gift I can conceive of having from anyone is to be seen by them, heard by them, to be understood and touched by them. The greatest gift I can give is to see, hear, understand and to touch another person. When this is done I feel contact has been made.”
―Virginia Satir
When I write, and share my words with others, and they respond — call and response — that’s the feeling I mean.
That’s what it means to hold space for each other.
The call at First Pres is: “Choose Love. Be the Light. Change the World”.
My response is every action I take in the service of others in the world.
Today, it’s these words.
And on, and on. And…
Love,
Jessie
"Writing is medicine." So is laughter. Keep offering both.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts Jessie. Alex and Courtney are true gems! Keep seeking. There are more people like Alex and Courtney and churches that reflect true faith in Jesus, grace, and love.