A small step in my journey

Faith and tradition are strange things. Faith brings vitality and strength and conviction and tradition brings fear and suspicion and abuse. Not all traditions, many are helpful and blessed. I am talking about questionable issues that harden into intimidating pressure to conform.

In my seminary days it was the ins and outs of sabbath keeping.

The freedom to partake in an adult beverage or dance in church life.

Today, we used men and women to pass the communion plate. A great tradition with lots of meaning to the Christian faith, and in my tradition only served by men. No chapter and verse, just another way to demonstration male leadership in the church.

So, today, we used some lovely female saints. I remember all the voices from my religious tradition, and feel how powerful the voices accusing us to keep to the standards. This was not even about women speaking or teaching, this was about the same women who serve us food every day of our lives. Silly, isn't it.

So, its like peeling an onion, one layer at a time, and my eyes watered with a moment of joy during communion when I spoke of Jesus showing himself alive to the attentive, and loving women who went to annoint His body on Easter morning.