Thursday 28 May 2020

Postmortem 53

I began to reconsider my participation in the Anglican Church over last Christmas, when for the second year in a row, no one did anything to reach out to me.  It was when the acting priest said that if I was feeling super depressed again on Christmas Day then I should go to hospital emergency where they would put me on enough medications to help see me through without harming myself.   Not one single parishioner who was going to be around for Christmas would even consider texting with me on email or even a phone call on Christmas Day.  I was not expecting a dinner invitation, I would have been content with simply a visit in a coffee shop.

And they still don't believe they are selfish. 

That was the first domino.

Just after Christmas I asked a particularly wealthy couple in the church if they would like to do coffee with me sometime before I went on my trip six weeks later.  They came up with excuse after lame excuse, and I came to the conclusion that their expressions of friendship had been little more than a hypocritical sham and I would likely be better off without them.  Sad, rather, because I was hoping to see if we could somehow bridge the gap between us since, as I said, they are wealthy and I was hoping we could come to understand each other better.  Apparently not interested.

That was the second domino

Six weeks later I was on my way to Colombia, where I would be staying with a friend whom I knew only following over a year of visits on Skype for language exchange.  He did not even profess to be a Christian.  He would not even think of accepting any money from me for staying with him for the next three weeks, though I still tried to pay for my share of food.  He could not think of enough to do for me, was always available and always happy to share and explore his country with me.  We became like family to each other, and we still are like family.

Domino number three

From my friend in Colombia I received the kind of treatment that I have always tried to give to others, such as was completely absent in my church full of selfish entitled middle class privilege.  But their lovely West Side homes are their castles, and their idea of Christian community doesn't appear to extend beyond church services and parish meetings.

Then Jesus tore my heart open as I became overwhelmed with love for the suffering poor that I met in Colombia.  I knew that my being a Christian meant living as Christ and his Apostles, my life completely consecrated to his service and through the service of suffering humanity.  I felt vulnerable, alive, more alive than I had felt in many long years.

That was domino number four.

I felt, during this trip completely submitted to Christ.  I felt that I was being called on this trip for his purposes.  Now, I know this stronger than ever.   I also stayed mostly away from church.  Not even when I was in Costa Rica for two and a half weeks following Colombia did I even enter a church building.  I was fine  without it.  Christ was present with me and I could love others freely and openly.  The Gospel had come alive in me, without help from the Christian institutions, and I knew that I was being taken in quite a new and different direction.

When I returned, the priest at St. Faith's seemed not at all interested in talking to me as I was seeking pastoral assistance.  I was also ignored by the archbishop.

Dominoes number five and six

In my desperation to be heard and receive pastoral assistance, I was blogging extensively about this, including written meditations on the Beatitudes of Jesus.  I was sending the links to the archbishop, the priest and a few others.  Still no answer.

That was the seventh domino.

Then the archbishop sent me a brief email asking that I stop sending these.  I refused because I would not tolerate being stonewalled.

That was the eighth domino.

A day later, I got an email from their lawyer.

That was the tenth domino.

I threatened to go public, contacted the CBC about this, and the cowards backed off.  Then I left the Anglican Church.

The End.

Or perhaps, the Beginning...

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