I don't remember the last time I went to church. It might have been with my parents, in Windsor, with the promise of a he-man breakfast at the Maple Leaf afterward...Visiting a church is like a trip home. Indeed, I think of my religion much like I do my nationality - something I was born into, but by my own volition, have since departed from. But I can always go back and my return, even for a visit, conjures a sense of nostalgia but also some restlessness. I still consider myself Catholic, although not practicing - and my 'religious' identity is something that has formed my person as much as the fact that I'm Canadian. I am conscientous, forgiving and vaguely ascetic as much as I am laid-back, friendly and active - stereotyped characteristics drawn from my Catholic-Canadian upbringing.
On a tip from Barb, who visited St Elthereda during her visit to London last autumn, I made my way to the oldest Catholic church in London. Barb had been especially impressed by the choir and I made sure to attend during a sung service. The church is a quaint, but with elaborate stained glass with strong purple and blue hues. It was a sunny day, and the windows were gleaming.
It was a beautiful setting.
Anyways, at the end of the service I caught the organist, a young, passionate player jamming, in the style of Elton John on the keys. It was intense, and amusing - but sweet.
