Around the religious world in 14 days

Thanks to a church history assignment, I was encouraged to attend a sabbath service at my neighborhood synagogue at the beginning of October. The community was small and the service was casual but mostly in Hebrew. The cantor had a voice that would be the envy of any church musican, and the whole congregation was involved in the reading of the Torah. Afterwards they welcomed us (four Lutherans and one Muslim) to their Shabbat Shuvah meal in their fellowship hall. As the challah and wine were passed around and festive sung prayers for a good new year, it made me wish we Lutherans would celebrate our feast of bread and wine with this much gusto.

The following day it was all incense and icons at a local Russian orthodox church. The most interesting aspect of the morning was, again, communion. The preparations are done by priests behind closed doors. A small amount of consecrated bread is immersed in the gold cup of wine. Only the orthodox can come forward for communion, during which the head priest places a spoonful of wine-soaked bread in their mouths. The rest of the bread bits (blessed but not consecrated) are placed in a large bowl at the back of the sanctuary, and people eat it as they mill around after receiving their communion. They also bring some handfuls to us guests in the balcony.

Then several days later, I and 200 others were guests of our campus Abrahamic Dialogue Association for an Iftar dinner to break the Ramadan fast at dinner. I am still mesmerized every time I hear the call to prayer, and at this meal I enjoyed the company of four U of Chicago phD students who are Muslims. One was particularly interested in how the Lutheran denomination differed from its close cousins. My answers were quite inadequate, I think, because I've never been interested in how my denomination is distinctive; I've been more concerned with what about our Lutheran heratige justifies the work we do, whether or not it is unique to us.

Finally, the following weekend, there was mass at an Episcopal church in my neighborhood. What choreography! Two presiding ministers and a deacon held up their portion of the feast at perfectly timed increments around a centralized altar. What fantastic Lutheran hymnody! We felt right at home. What interesting community! One rector invited the young adults present to an event at the home he shares with another man ... for whatever that's worth ... and the other rector led the young children out of the sanctuary, dancing toward Sunday School during the last hymn. Oh, oh, oh! How could I almost have forgotten? They commune children there (as we ELCA-ers don't, except when parents and local custom agree to it). A girl of about three years warmed all the Lutheran hearts in the second row (heaven forbid the first be filled) by grimacing at the taste of strong wine, but then quickly saying, "Amen."

Indeed, I have been fed by Chicago's faith community.

How far would you go for pastoral care? for liberation theology?

When I lived 90 minutes away from my parents' home in South Dakota, I made the trip about a half-dozen times per year. I remember thinking of people who commuted 45 minutes from SDSU or USD to Sioux Falls, "That's crazy! I would hate spending so much time on the road.

Now I travel 90 minutes or more twice a week just to get to class. Because the idea of hospital visits and one-on-one pastoral care frightens the be-jeebers out of me, I wanted to take a pastoral care class right away my first semester. None offered in the south side schools in our consortium fit my schedule, so I decided to take it from Garrett Evangelical, a United Methodist Seminary on the campus of Northwestern University in Evanston. Each Tuesday and Thursday, I head out to the curb to catch a bus a full two hours before class is scheduled to begin. I make a trip that's the equivalent in time, if not in distance, to a ride from Sioux Falls to Watertown (SD), but this ride is chauffered by the drivers of the Chicago Transit Authority.

A trip to the Flat Top Grill is worth about an hour in the car.

Hearing the founder of liberation theology speak? That's worth about 90 minutes on the bus/train (one way).

I don't have a car here, and it has simplified my life. It's much easier to say no to shopping and other low priorities when getting there would be a hassle. I can get almost everything I need in my little neighborhood, something I think more neighborhoods should strive for, and some (like this one in Atlanta) do. Sometimes I look up from my reading on the el, see how fast we're zipping by the cars stalled on I-90/94 (a.k.a. the Dan Ryan expressway) and think, "you're wasting your life away." Life here is not faster-paced than life in my old South Dakota suburb-of-nowhere.

Crash

You have to see this movie.

I took it personally. I have had some Crash-type moments in Chicago...this week, in fact. Certainly not the same level of drama this movie musters, but some definite examples of my perception not being reality in this city.

A group of high school boys in do-rags and jerseys seemed a little out of place on my street in the middle of the school day, and when I crossed over the street to avoid breaking up their crew, they crossed over too. I panicked, stopped, and raised my voice on the cell phone conversation I was having until they got in a suburban and drove away. They were probably going to McDonald's on a lunch break, and I'd made them out to be gangsters.

The other day on the CTA red line, I found myself alone in the train car with a man staggering in my direction. He stopped just ahead of me and saw what I was eating.

"Snickers, eh?" he said.

"Yeah. Would you like one?" I asked. I had one more in my backpack.

"You're kidding," he said. "Sure."

As he ripped into it, he asked what I was studying and seemed genuinely interested in my being a theology student. Turns out he's a Transportation Safety Administration official and a basketball referee; if I hadn't been so busy labeling him black and drunk and the only person in my big scary train car, I would have seen his badges.


Note: For spelling's sake, I googled do-rag before finalizing this post today (10/24) and learned that a do-rag business in my home could be my ticket to financial freedom!