The Church: Great and Small

Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Luke 18: 16-17

While on vacation with family in Washington, D.C. I had a chance to tour the National Cathedral.  We squeezed it in at the end of a whirlwind tour of war memorials, monuments, and museums.  I expected some resistance from my husband and children, but I insisted on stopping to see it.  I’ve seen cathedrals in various American cities and in Europe, but now the grandeur had a personal connection.  Within the ornate stained glass, the arches, the sculptures, and the beauty that called to mind the immensity and power of God, I saw echoes of my home church in the structure, the colors, and the artwork.  Within the large and grandiose, I found the small and personal.  I thought my husband and daughters were just humoring me, until we found some of the small chapels on the side.

In those spaces, private, intimate enclosures within the monumental and majestic cathedral, my children lit up with smiles.  My cousin’s five year old daughter, Jillian (an Episcopalian from before her birth) led my girls up to kneel at the altars.  The three little blond girls knelt in the chapel and whispered quietly to each other.  They may not have known how to respond to the vaulted arches and the ornate stained glass, but they knew how to kneel and pray.  Tears grew in my eyes, as I saw my children react to the beauty of the place, as it brought the transcendent into the personal.  

In our lives, especially our lives in relation to God, we need the transcendent and the immanent, the immense and the tiny, the grandiose and the mundane, the global and the personal, the catholic and the local.  The Episcopal Church and St. Ignatius are an excellent example.

Recently, I have followed a few events at the National Convention through Facebook and blogs, and contacted members of the Diocese of Chicago for help with some projects.  I am impressed by the structure of the larger church, especially as delegates at the convention reportedly worked together with respect and collaboration to decide polarizing issues.  I am proud to be an Episcopalian when I read about the far-reaching efforts for social justice from our larger church.  I am grateful for the help from Diocesan staff on publicizing events and organizing important educational opportunities.  The larger church does a great deal of good, but it is easy for me to get lost in the mass of it and frustrated at the unwieldy structure. That is why I need my little chapel here at St. Ignatius.

My home parish, St. Ignatius, brings the transcendent into the personal for me.  Here, we put the ideals of social justice to work in our resale shop, in our work at the food pantry, in our support of the counseling center and the parish nurse.  For the last 100 years, people at St. Ignatius have had our boots on the ground, bringing to bear important events like helping Eagle Scouts build sheds, Vacation Bible School organizing fundraisers, craft fairs, and educating ourselves and our community.  Here we learn to love our neighbors as ourselves, in an everyday, personal, intimate way.  Here we put the grandiose ideas into mundane action.  I am like my children in the National Cathedral, a little bit lost in the big picture, but comfortable in the personal, kneeling down at the little altar to receive God’s grace.