Leta missed going to church. All her life she had been a
practicing Christian, and while she never considered that going to church was
the beginning and end of a person’s faith, she did miss the worship. For
Christmas and the following Easter she went with Vivian and Ed. Their parish
had an early morning service that better suited Vivian’s temperament. Her
grandson Don’s family attended the same parish, but went to the second service.
The early service was too early for her, and she would never impose upon her
granddaughter-in-law Pat to take her with them. In fact, if she understood
Pat’s Sunday morning schedule correctly, it began with taking the children to
Sunday school, where she taught one of their classes, and then they attended
the later service. The younger two sang with the children’s choir, which
performed twice per month in the service. Afterward, they would have a hot
lunch. Pat would make them soup, macaroni and cheese or grilled cheese
sandwiches, foods they could not have for lunch during the week because of
school. “We like welsh rarebit,” her oldest grandson Jeff told her. “That’s our
favorite.”
Before she moved into the nursing home, Leta used to attend
a Lutheran church regularly. However, as the Home was owned and managed by a
Catholic order with strict rules, she was not welcome to the weekly services
held by Father Anthony Cuthbert. There was a chapel in the residence that she
could use for prayer or meditation when it wasn’t being reserved for morning
matins, evening prayer, the weekly Sunday service or funerals. She attended
many of the funerals. This enabled her to participate in some worship. Once per
month her own pastor arrived to serve her communion. He would ask her how she
was doing, pray with her and then fidget until his twenty minutes had
concluded.
She also had the opportunity to watch religious programming
on the shared television in the lounge. There were two different television
lounges, and on weekend days, the staff left the broadcast of various preachers
and Bible studies. Leta preferred Billy Graham, but he did not broadcast
regularly. She found some of the other preachers to be overbearing and
judgmental, but others delivered wonderful messages. Sometimes she participated
in the televised Bible studies, using a Bible her sister Mabel had given her.
Still, she wanted more, and she felt like there was more
available to her at the Home, if only she were allowed.
Would God be angry
with her if she became a Catholic? she wondered. There were Roman Catholics
in her family. Her son Dale converted years ago to marry Kathryn. They were
raising their children in that faith.
If she became Roman Catholic, she would not be allowed to participate
in the Lutheran communion. This was a tremendous change. Members of her
daughter’s family would no doubt be unhappy with her if she followed through
with her conversion. They were staunch Lutherans, partly owing to her
son-in-law’s German heritage. She also wondered if she would be required to
pray from the rosary or learn the names of saints or other things that Roman
Catholics did that she had always considered rather pagan.
At the same time, she knew that she did not need to attend
church services to be a faithful Christian. She also knew, as her pastor told
her, that after attending church so regularly throughout her life, she had
“done her part.” She could still lead a prayerful life even if she did not
attend church. However, it still seemed to her that she was not properly
practicing her religion. To do that, she needed to go to church. After all,
that was the basis of a Christian life.
This perplexed her, but not all the time, so she continued
to think about it and go about her life for some time. She had many other
activities in her life to occupy her time and thoughts.
One Tuesday afternoon, she was up and dressed, sitting in
the lobby of the home, just near the entrance and waiting. This was the day her
pastor was scheduled to visit. She was hungry for payer and communion. He usually arrived between two and four,
depending on his schedule, so she got herself ready after lunch. She checked
her watch every ten minutes or so, even though there was a large grandfather
clock that kept good time in the corner, right in her line of vision. At
3:30pm, she started to feel anxious. She also grew tired of sitting in the same
chair. She rose, told the receptionist her intention and then took a walk
around the interior of the facility. Ten minutes later, she returned to the
facility’s entrance, where the receptionist told her that no one had called for
her. They chatted for a few minutes, and then, it was 4:00pm. This was the
latest her pastor had ever arrived. She sat and waited another 30 minutes,
growing more despondent with each passing second. The grandfather clock chimed,
the receptionist started to pack up her things to leave, and Leta stood.
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