Today was my last visit to St. Mark’s Church. It was sad; however, I did have the opportunity to share in Communion with the congregation here. That was a very special experience for me, not because there was anything remarkably different about it (it was very similar to Sylvania), but because it signified the unity of the Church. Amy, Megan, and I were all visiting from different places in the United States, and there were other visitors from other locations as well, but we were all remembering and identifying with Christ together. Another thing that struck me this morning was the significance of the elements. (That is to say, another aspect of their meaning.) They’re like baptism: a symbol of dying and being raised to life again. When you eat the bread, it’s a representation of dying with Christ (for I was crucified with Christ…), and when you drink the wine, it’s a representation of living in His life (…and yet I live…). I suppose I’ve realized that before, but for some reason it was in the forefront of my mind today. Perhaps God was just asking me to apply it.
I actually understood the majority of the service today; I’ve made a lot of progress. I plan on looking up some of the songs we’ve sung in French when I get back. I wonder if French hymnbooks are readily available on Amazon…
Anyway, I talked with the pastor’s wife for a little while before I left. (I wish I had a picture of her and her family, because you guys would not believe how much they look like my own pastor’s family.) She and her husband had just returned from a family vacation to Ontario, where they were immersed in English once again. (They are originally Anglophones.) She said it’s still difficult coming back – even though they speak French fluently now. We shared our frustrations, because she’s been through the same things I’m experiencing, and it was nice to know that someone understood. After all, I think that one of the most important (and helpful) things I’ve learned since I arrived was just how much I don’t know. Another things we talked about was how you feel so stifled sometimes when there are things you want to say, but you have no idea how to say them. And then there are those things that fall by the wayside when you’re trying to communicate in a foreign language – like courtesy. Sometimes you just have to say, “Forget the please and thank you, and all the polite conjugations. Just tell me where the bathroom is!” And I loved the other example she used: “You know, when you call tech support and you get that stupid twirp in India who you can’t understand, and you’re so irritated…well, now you’re that stupid twirp.” We both agreed that learning a second language is indeed a humbling experience. (I wouldn’t trade it, by the way.)
We also started talking about my home church, Sylvania, and the different issues we’ve been facing there with the influx of young families in the area but an aging congregation. She said that they’ve encountered similar difficulties in finding ways to reach out to the community, and her advice was to find ways to meet the people where they are, perhaps by providing a babysitting service once a month, or something like that. I’m going to talk to Mom about it when I get home, because I know the Ladies Circle has already started doing some community outreach like that, so maybe they would be interested.
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