on becoming Anglican.

I claim St. Brendan's of the City as my church and community home. This group of believers gathers each Sunday night in one of the city's homeless shelters, gathers around a single piano, and takes the Eucharist together. These people challenge me each week to see the gospel spilling over in each passage of scripture and in each step of the service. From the communal confession to the passing of the peace, we practice the gospel together in our actions and words; creating and orchestrating a rhythm we're to follow the rest of the week.

Attending church week after week is often hard for me. After a busy work week and a full Saturday, sometimes I receive more rest and restoration from staying home on Sunday nights. The community and gathering of believers, though, cannot function if everyone decides to receive refreshment at home. If I claim to want to practice the sacraments with this community, then I must step outside of myself to seek to share the peace with these people.

 Becoming a member of St. Brendan's community is nothing more than a verbal commitment to these people. I decide to say that the Body is greater than my needs, teaching the children is the most important speech I'll give all week, and my body and soul can return to the patterns--and the reflective and restorative Sabbath-- of the service.

I love the pattern of the Anglican service. The Eucharist clearly takes the precedence of the service; the service never relies on the sermon, or if the speaker had a bad day. Instead, taking communion together as a body demonstrates a union between one another, and between the Body and Christ. Every week we come together, to confess our sins, to celebrate each other, and to draw strength from the personhood and sacrifice of Christ.

Often in sermon-heavy churches, we can never remember the point of the message. I remember growing up how my family would often talk about the most awkward thing the pastor said that week, and I humbly admit that I could rarely remember the purpose of the sermon the next time I stepped in the church. I rejoice in the liturgy because the patterns of the service are the things that permeate my mind and actions during the week: confession, worship, prayer, passing the peace, rejoicing in Christ. I remember the words of the benediction and the purpose of why we confess as a body, much more so than I ever remembered the sermons of my church growing up. I love the repetition, the beauty of the liturgical calendar and how it wonderfully represents the seasons and the timeliness of Creation. I love how our patterns mirror the Scriptures, and the deep meaning within each gospel reading.

In two weeks I will join the Anglican Church. I will join the history of believers who proclaim the gospel in liturgy, who confess to knowing nothing beyond the love of Christ. I will join this church and commit to these people. I will say the first “I dos” in this church, representing a communcl promise to staying unified with these people. As we confess and grow and learn and discover God’s grace, we will further the kingdom together and know the beauty of the love of Christ.