Monks and Anglicans

I found some Anglicans yesterday afternoon!

After a less-than-productive morning off (the sun was out, so I just wandered around), I stumbled into the chaplaincy building and awkwardly told the secretary I was an exchange student looking to get involved.

"SCORE," was written all over her face. She showed me into the next office where a couple people were prepping for a Eucharist service. I'd walked in just in time to talk for 10 minutes and then walk over to the King's College Chapel.

It was small. There were about 7 of us, including two priests, one of whom thought my name was stupid and hilarious (That's your name?? Your first name is a surname and your surname is a Welsh first name! ...So I've heard). 

The last time I was in an Episcopal church service (and actually participating...not in the choir), was in seventh grade for Confirmation class. I remember feeling lost, out of place and confused. I've been back as an observer from the choir loft

There's a lot of Father-Son-and-Holy-Spiriting. There are creeds. There is tradition and formality. And while I love it, there are pieces of the liturgy that rub hard against the doctrine I have come to love and lean into over the past couple of years.

Total honesty moment: if I hadn't spent time at St. Gregory's in Three Rivers last semester, I wouldn't go back to the Eucharist service next week. Somewhere in the days watching the brothers at the abbey, in being led by them and welcomed by them, I fell back in love with tradition, with the formality, with the quiet and rhythmic reverence, and with the idea that for centuries, people have been upholding this way of worship as a community.

And it is sweet to know that with the five hour time difference, the brothers of St. Gregory's Abbey are sitting in morning mass at the same time we gather in the King's College Chapel on Wednesdays.

I'll post pictures tomorrow!