I grew up attending Lutheran School from first grade through high school graduation. I was baptized and confirmed in the Lutheran Church. I was a Lutheran. Period. End of story.
Only… I married a non-Lutheran. Beloved is an Anglican from the cradle: he was practically born on the altar.
He broke his arm at age 12 when he fell while painting the ceiling of St. Andrew’s Anglican church where his mother was the pianist-- and the choir (no typo there). During a service, before he could walk he crawled up on the altar. I’m not kidding or exaggerating-- that actually happened.
His father scooped him up and carried him around after that so he would not join/disrupt the altar events. After this incident or because of it, Beloved’s mother believed he would--or she wanted him to-- become a priest.
So I love this man who is not a Lutheran. The minister who married us is the same man who when I was six years old told my aunt that I needed to attend the Lutheran school; I did. It changed my life in wonderful ways for which I will be eternally grateful.
Anyway, this dear man, Rev. Dr. Peter R. Hunt asked me during our premarital counseling what I would do if Beloved wanted me to join his church.
“Well, if anyone will be joining someone else’s church, he
will be joining mine!” Famous last words!
So, you can see this coming right?
The closest Lutheran church to where we lived would not allow Eyston to take communion because he was not Lutheran. I was offended by that, and the part I don’t get now is why I did not just go to another Lutheran church till I could find one that would let him take communion. But that is not what happened.
At that same time, that we had been ill-treated at our neighborhood Lutheran Church, Beloved’s parents, and his younger brother and sister were all living in our city.
In fact those two siblings of his and we got married within a year of each other; and we all had kids within 18 months of each other!
Beloved and I started attending the Episcopal church with this whole little family here. (There was no Anglican church in this city at that time.)
There was a whole extended family pew thing going on which-- since I had never had that --and desperately had wanted it --growing up, this satisfied a deep need in me to belong to something larger than myself.
When our son David was born and he was baptized at age 3 months, all of a sudden, he and his father were Anglican and I alone was Lutheran. Having grown up in denominationally divided home I did not want that for my kids, so I decided to be received by the Episcopal church. (They did not require anything new of me: my Lutheran baptism and confirmation were accepted.)
For the next 30 years all was well with that arrangement. I will compress the next chapter in this saga but essentially last October I found that something was missing for me and I returned to the Lutheran church.
I have been attending Lutheran every other Sunday where I want to be; alternate Sundays I have been worshipping beside my husband-- as I have done for 30 years. Talk about being torn. I am torn!
All of that is the background for Tuesday night. There was Shrove Pancake supper at the Lutheran Church starting for members at 5:00 p.m. I had planned to go for a couple of months since it was announced.
Well last week—literally—it was announced that there would be a Pancake supper same night at Beloved’s church—where I have been a member since we formed as an Anglican Church 8 years ago and before that another 9 years with that same core congregation when we were still in the Episcopal Church.
I had invited him to join me at the Lutheran Shrove Pancake Supper; but that was not what he wanted. Instead he wanted me to come to his church for pancakes and music. He plays in the band. I was torn.
All this has made my life complicated since October, maybe before then for a little while too. But in October I went to the Lutheran Church again and I knew I was home. I wondered how I could have stayed away so long. But I am back.
And he is not into it. And …yet, I can’t do what I have been doing anymore.
It was never a challenge or struggle till last fall, but it is what it is and I can’t change it. I am praying and journaling taking with my Sponsor and with my new wonderful loving spiritual minister at St. Paul’s and I am trusting that…This, Too Shall Pass.
Oh! What did I do? I went to both!
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