Rejection

There is something about being asked not to attend a church service that feels like the ultimate rejection. I knew that it was time to leave. I had made my decision a few days earlier while on retreat in upstate New York. I planned to do the 'jobs' I was scheduled to do during the month of June, ask to be taken off the rota for the summer and gradually fade into the sunset.

I wanted to tell the priest that she was being cruel by criticizing everything I did or said. I was a 'lay' volunteer in her church not only was she cruel but she had no right to criticize me, she wasn't my boss. I didn't need it anymore, my identity is not wrapped up in being a 'lay eucharistic minister' or the person who wrote the prayers, it was time to move on, to "shake the dust off my feet" as it was clear I wasn't wanted. But I didn't say anything because it didn't seem loving, it didn't seem like it would bring about justice, and nothing redemptive would come out of it. Fading into the sunset seemed to be the compassionate thing to do. The day after I got home, I received a voiced demanding a meeting. When I insisted she tell me why, and ask that she call me when I could answer the phone. The next day a voice mail asking me not to attend that coming sunday.

It didn't start recently. I should have listened to my gut feeling when I first started attending four and one half years ago, but I didn't. The story, which I want to tell for myself to get some closure, will take several more posts.