it is unfamiliar to him

It is unfamiliar to him. He’s adjusting. It’s only been a few months since he left. On Saturdays he still feels the anxiety of unpreparedness. On Sunday mornings he still awakens in a panic. The habit of attending is not all that lingers in his flesh. It is the habit of constituency. It’s the habit of position that clings to his foundation. All that is gone. He knows. But there are receptors at a cellular level that still crave its chemical. The place and the event was so much a part of his life for so long.

He’s discovered something he already knew: there is life beyond its walls. There is wonder and worship, compassion and commitment, generosity and giving, prayer and praise, learning and living. The defrocking he self-imposed has dressed him in a liberty that always laid beneath. The fetters have fallen. He lives and learns and loves without the clerical ecclesial constraints.

He still loves that into which he was conceived, to which he was bound, for which he gave, and from which he was born. Not denying the one, he’s been thrust into the All.

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