Thursday, January 14, 2016
Week 19 - how like a church the pool
Showering off this morning after the usual morning laps, I thought again how like a church the pool is. The arching height. Meant to shelter and yet let light in. How it glows from the inside out.
Driving here in the morning, all the streets are dark and then - a glimpse between dark houses, light shining out of darkness. And I know I will find there the embrace of clean water and familiar smiling faces. I will try to reach a little further than I did yesterday.
This is what a church should be.
There are the regulars -- older ladies, a few old gentlemen. The organized teams of young people, the squealing kids for lessons will come later in the day. But the morning congregation is the same type of population you find in Barbara Pym novels keeping the Church of England going. And a similar purpose motivates our coming so faithfully -- purportedly because it will do some good for us, but it's obvious we aren't all that changed. Our extra poundage of all the results of bad choices still wags around with us.
So our real reason is not because we are ascetics so particularly advanced on the spiritual (or physical) path but because we like the pleasing regularity of routine, the familiar faces, the company so early in the day facing the dark.
And something more that we sense almost blindly, when we immerse ourselves in this buoyant element and give ourselves over to the rules of water, trusting it to hold us up today once more, like every day before.