I was mentioning to our new priest recently about how I would like to help facilitate a better sense of community in our little Anglican parish in Vancouver's famous West End. I am still hobbling around now on crutches looking for some kind Samaritan to lend me a shoe horn to pry my foot out of my mouth. I have, since expressing this offer, been coming up against just how little tolerance I have for some kinds of behaviour. I am not intolerant, I really try to hate everyone equally. I am not necessarily irritable but I can at times be easily irritated. During the Eucharist this morning an elderly lady, as I predicted, was seated in my usual place. I have recently become possessive, or should I say, a bit territorial about a certain spot on the pew third to the back on the left hand side of the church, on the end of the pew near the window side where it is shortened to accommodate a pillar. I like to sit right next to this pillar. This woman only sits there once a month, the first Sunday, when we have our combined service. She is during the balance of the month at the early service. I am not terribly fond of this lady. She is very elderly, in her eighties, British working class, really a very sweet friendly kind person, but a dreadful busybody with poor boundaries and I do not like busybodies with poor boundaries. I suppose I am still wary of her. She is the kind of person whom, even if you're feeling perfectly fine and having a great day, she will sidle up to you and ask you what is troubling you and to please tell her all about it, and then if you swallow the bait, she doesn't really listen to you then goes on about something that has nothing to do with what you just told her. So, I try to stay away from her. She was seated in my usual place and I tried to coach myself to not be bothered about it, since she is an old lady, and it is good for me to not be territorial. Besides, despite her great age she has an advantage in that she lives next door to the church and can get there a lot faster than me.
Feeling actually surprisingly unbothered, I chose a pew two in front of her where I positioned myself near the aisle. Then arrived a couple who are veteran members of the parish who sat right behind me. He has a very loud voice and almost shouts the responses during the liturgy. Eventually my head began to hurt so I gathered up all my stuff and moved to the back pew.
Downstairs we were gathering together for our monthly book club meeting. The lesbian couple still isn't speaking to me but of course they wanted to attend the meeting so we at least got to practice sitting in the same room at the same time. A newcomer also arrived with his wife. This man is a published author who appears to have a high opinion of his intelligence as well as his mystical experiences. We have already got off to a bad start, in case you're wondering. A few weeks ago as we were chatting over coffee following the Eucharist he expressed surprise that I am still working. He thought that I had retired years ago and expressed shock that I am not yet fifty-eight. He also suggested that my field of work, mental health, has probably aged me! The conversation did not end well and he took care to avoid me for a few weeks. Today, having a conversation with the meeting facilitator, seated at my right, he got up and walked closer, standing just at my right, apparently oblivious that with his loud voice that I might be having to listen to them in stereo. I asked him nicely if he wouldn't mind moving to the other side. He wanted to know why. I replied that I was hearing them both in stereo. He said, "So?" I replied, "Well, I don't like it." The bozo immediately got the message and returned to his seat where he sank down in a sulk. Now this is a man who must be at least in his late sixties if not older.
During much of the meeting, while we were figuring out which books we would be reading and studying together, he waxed on about a book he has written that we must read together and brought a copy to pass around. I found him to be quite a blow-hard as he went into detail about his theology and sense of Christ's immediate presence etcetera and I could only keep my mouth shut and think about the importance of living out our faith and that no matter how much knowledge or clever insight we might accrue that the bottom line is that we live and walk in love.
This is to say that throughout my time in church today I have been challenged to stop judging, to shut up, listen, pay attention to the pain that other people are experiencing (two people in the book club have lost their mothers in recent weeks and another's mother may be gravely ill), to cut people slack, to consider and embrace the many good qualities that the old guy has, and he has many, and one other thing...
That I consider that the way others are seeing me is not necessarily going to line up with the way that I see myself, or how I necessarily want to be seen.
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