Christian Formation is my passion. I love reading about it, talking about it, writing about it, analyzing it--you name it, I love it. As the new Director of Christian Formation for Calvary Episcopal Church in Louisville as well as the Diocesan Chair for Christian Formation, it is on my mind, well non stop. I want to help develop Christian formation programs that speak to our world today, that are inclusive, tolerant, and real I believe Christian formation is lifelong; I believe Christian formation takes many forms and last night as I was reading Julie Lytle's book Faith Formation 4/0, my belief that Christian formation is a part of the entirety of the church and not just the hour or the 45 minutes of "Sunday School" was solidified. In fact, I'll go out on a limb and say, Christian formation happens more outside of that time than within.
Anyone who has been around me for more than 20 minutes talking about Episcopal churches hears me talk incessantly about St. Paul's Mt. Lebanon. St. Paul's was our parish for 2 1/2 years; it was our friends and it was our family away from home. We left 10 years ago, and still my heart swells when I think of the time we spent there. When we left St. Paul's to move to Virginia a very wise priest, The Rev. Doug Wigner, said to me, "When you leave a parish that has been so integral to your life; a parish in which you have been so involved, there will be a time of grieving, and it will be hard to immediately assimilate into a new parish. A part of your heart will always remain with that parish." How right he was. So last night as I was reading I was trying to remember what "programs" were used, what curricula was presented, what topics we discussed in Rector's Forum. And I couldn't remember ONE thing--but here are the memories that came rushing back.
I remember Caroline at 2 walking straight into Father Bob Banse's office and being welcomed while I was trying to keep her out. He said, "She's fine in here; go do what you need to do." (It might have helped that she called him Father God.) I remember standing in the kitchen with the parish secretary, financial secretary, both priests, the sexton and Patti Trainor,another friend, as we and our children celebrated the sexton's birthday--a gathered, inclusive, community centered around a table. I remember walking into the youth lounge and finding my children on various teens laps, and I remember walking in and saying, "First youth to call me gets the babysitting job Friday night" and it was just like having older siblings show up. I remember eating dinner before the Alpha program and seeing Holland sitting behind her mother with her 15 year old arms draped around her and thinking, "I hope my relationship with my girls is like that." and then having Janie to turn to over the years, across the miles to give me advice and pray for me--and in fact that is now my relationship with my girls. I remember Caroline coming into church after Children's chapel and taking her time to choose who she would sit with. (Her comment when we told them we were moving to Virginia, "well who will I sit with in church?") I remember William knocking over the chalice during a midweek Eucharist where the children were gathered around the altar. His eyes swelled with tears as he began to tremble, and Father Bob picked him up and continued celebrating with William in his arms. I remember Caroline walking into the assistant rector's, Fr. James McCaskill, office during a pre-marriage counseling session and the couple and James saying, "You are welcome to stay if you just sit quietly." She sat on the groom-to-be's lap throughout. (And ya'll wonder why she's the child she is today--seriously it was not ME!) I remember a wonderful friendship with a couple,, the Kubanceks, who were my parents age and who treated Chris and I as equals--as people with as much to offer as they had. I remember TJ bringing Christopher home from football (yes Christopher was 5) and when I tried to pay him say, "Mrs. Doyle, we're family. We don't pay each other to help out." I remember on our first visit back after moving they sang all my children's favorite songs in Children's chapel to welcome them home. And I remember driving by the church one afternoon and William saying, "Aren't we going to stop at the church?' "No," I answered, "I don't have anything I need to do there today." "Well I think we should just stop by to say hello," he replied. And we did. These are just a few of the memories that continue to flood my mind...
In contrast, we attended another church for a while that I truly believe was a place of God's love. I know many people who have been reared, worked and attended this parish and they are faithful people of God. But what I remember when I think of this church is having not lived in the community for very long and shyly (yes me) walking into pageant rehearsal one cold December morning and seeing a group of women laughing and walking out. One turned to me, my hopes soared thinking I was going to be invited along, and instead she said, "Excuse me," (she didn't know my name), "Could you stay and help? They need someone to and we really want to go get coffee together and catch up." And I learned what it meant to be excluded and that there must be some sort of "initiation| into belonging in this community.
I don't remember the Sunday School curriculum of either church, but I remember what St. Paul's taught our family about God's love, acceptance, and inclusivity. St. Paul's taught us that children matter, that all people matter, and that the love of God extends beyond Sunday morning. St. Paul's taught us how to live our faith in the world. I am challenged as a priest--challenged by my mentors and friends, The Rev. Bob Banse and The Rev. James McCaskill, as well as all the people of St. Paul's. In 10 years, what will people I lead and love remember?
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