The Churches in My Life
Lately, the only places that I seem to travel to are churches. Maybe, my spiritual compass is trying to point me “true” North? Maybe, my spiritual fuel is running on empty and the only place that refills me are churches? I do not know exactly why I now, make time for churches, but I do. It has proved to be very difficult to share something so routine with you all. Instead of sharing what I thought I would write about, let me share what is on my mind.
This week, I went to run an errand in Brooklyn and passed the church where I am a pseudo member of in Brooklyn Heights. I started to reflect on my spiritual journey and I started to think about churches from other countries.
In Rwanda, the closest church to me served as a small memorial of the Genocide. It was a building that I had to be pass everyday. It also mirrored many other dimensions of my life during my time in Rwanda. I acknowledged that church, only because I had to because there were small parts of me that could not go into that memorial. It was a small and dark place that held the villages pain.
In Haiti, there was one church in Port-au-Prince that was very special to me. It was a reminder after a long road trip, that I was almost home. It seemed very inviting, at least, that is the way that I remember it. Months after, I remember passing it when I came back to Haiti after the earthquake and it was a pile of grey, dusty rubble. No longer a reminder, that I was almost home, instead a reminder of other people’s pain.
In Rwanda, I learned the power of truth and reconciliation outside of church. In Haiti, I understood and valued community outside of church. In New York, my current home, church, has provided me with this subtle routine, that I think I desperately craved. And out of this routine, I receive spiritual refueling, stability and deeper roots to my life in New York.
Are there any places of worship that hold a special place in your heart? PLease share them in the comments section below.