As my faith has shifted I have become underwhelmed with much of my tradition. I’ve hodge-podged new rituals out of other practices and looked in dusty nooks of this one for meaningful expressions of a spirituality that no longer fits in the boxes I was given. But one ritual has never lost it’s mystery to me. Even when I couldn’t really consider myself a Christian I appreciated communion. Because this is Christianity’s addition to the universal groaning. Not a religious rite for the “in” crowd, but a deeply human, bestial cry. This is our admission that things are not as they should be, that we are broken and bleeding and…
A fundamentalist turned freedom chaser with an obnoxiously stubborn faith.