Anthill of God

I went to church today. (sort of.)

I'm not a Christian. I believe in God to some extent, yes, but I am in no way a Christian. It's not the culture within which I normally exist. Nonetheless I went to a Catholic mass today, because I believe any religious community can be welcoming and warm. Well, to say I went there is an overstatement.

I arrived at the church I see most frequently, a small, ancient building out in the woods on a hillside. It was closed.

I sat on the steps for some time, thinking to myself. There were ants crawling everywhere.

Aimlessly I walk around the church. More ants. I wonder if they are believers. I wonder if there's an ant-specific mass today. I feel welcome. They scurry around me. It's wonderful. I look up at the trees. It's just me and the ants.

I go find another church. The mass is underway. I fear I might interrupt, so I don't go in. I sit on the steps once again as I listen to the ceremony.

When the believers walk out, they question my presence. They don't welcome me. I have to leave.

There were no ants in the second church. And there was no warm welcome, either. I couldn't walk around the building, or look up at the trees. I fear there's a metaphor in here.

Either way, make no mistake, I don't judge. It's not my place. I shall find another church the next time I feel the urge to attend a Christian mass. I hope I'll see ants.

And a happy pentecost to all those who celebrate.