Today in the middle of our singing praise time the instruments paused and we all joined in the Doxology, acappella. I love worship songs, love, love some of those new songs that put so plainly how I feel, but there is something about hearing all those voices singing a song that has been sung for hundreds of years that makes a shiver run up my spine. It’s a connection to all those Christian sisters and brothers who have gone before me, and it’s powerful. And, interesting. I didn’t grow up singing traditional songs at all, in fact, while I did grow up in a Christian home I sort of grew up without a church home. We moved too much. So it’s a little surprising that I can sing old songs and feel connected to any tradition at all, and yet I do. After all these years I realize I’ve been adopted into one. Their roots are now my roots, their songs my songs. I always imagined a feeling like that had to reach back biological generations but now I don’t think it has too.
And isn’t that what the Christian faith really is? Adoption. We’re all adopted into it whether we grew up in a Christian home or not. Whether we came to know the Lord early in life or late. Whether we are Methodist, Catholic or independent, we are grafted in. I guess it’s only fitting that I’ve grafted myself into this one particular church tradition, as well.
I think it shows us that we can become invested in a new home. Be it a church, a group of friends, or a new community. Once we give a bit of ourselves, and learn a bit about the history and culture, can’t we become part of that place too, instead of being the forever outsider? I hope so.
For some it’s the sports teams, the local restaurants and coffee shops, the schools. We all have something that ties us to a place, and if you don’t have that yet, you will, just give it a little time.
Speaking of home, I’ll be gone for the next little while and won’t be blogging while I’m away. I’m going out to visit my family, a place that I’ve never lived but feels a little like home because my parents, and sisters are there. Then I’m off to Michigan for a bit, a place that feels like home because I have friends who became family. That’s a lot of home, for one woman, and it makes me smile.