Today I'm beginning a series on Living the Liturgy. As someone relatively new to the liturgical tradition, I want to remember it's meaning from the very beginning. I don't want to forget how it grabbed my soul and refused to let go from the first "The Lord be with you."
I didn't mean to fall in love with the liturgical tradition. I grew up Baptist, attended a Methodist University, went to the Methodist church (twice), the Christian Church and the Charismatic church somewhat regularly during my four year stay in Wilmore, Kentucky.
My Junior year, I needed a credit to fulfill an elective and let's face it, it wasn't going to be racquetball. Having heard good things about the "Study the Bible" class including no homework, a teacher who loved the Lord on a personal, not just academic level, and simple tests, I said, "sign me up!"
The professor radiated Christ. She believed and accepted the Gospel, but more than that, she loved the Author in ways that made me leave class thinking, "I want to know Jesus like that."
She mentioned one day loving The Abbey of Gethsemani, a monastery not far from Asbury where she had taken several retreats.
You know those moments in life when you hear something and your soul stands up, raises it's hand, and said, "I'm RIGHT here!!!" Very bizarre. I don't remember ever thinking about a monastery before that moment, but suddenly I had to know more about it. I left class that day thinking, "I have to go there. Soon." '
And I did.
To Be Continued. . . .