|
 Saint Luke’s has been a part of our family for as long as Chris and I have had a family. It was sixteen years ago this month when we first visited Saint Luke’s, and I will never forget that day. Chris and I are from Montevallo, so we didn’t have a home church in Birmingham. We had been faith-hopping for years, trying out the coolest preachers and the hippest Sunday School classes, but refusing to settle down at any one place for too long. When I became pregnant with our first child, we knew we needed to finally find the right place for our growing family.
We made a list, checked it twice, and started roaming the magic city in search of a church home. We tried a couple of Methodist churches because I grew up Methodist. We lived on Southside at the time, so of course we visited the downtown Episcopal churches, the faith in which Chris had been confirmed. I think we even strolled into the Unitarian Church on Highland Avenue once, but that was more for curiosity’s sake than any great spiritual soul-searching. We finally walked into Saint Luke’s one Sunday in December. It was Christmas time, and I was feeling a little like Mary must have felt so long ago: great with child, exhausted from a long journey, and wanting nothing more than a place to rest and find some peace.
We had friends who were members here, and I had been in the sanctuary a few times for weddings and baptisms, so I was not totally unfamiliar with Saint Luke’s. I had always admired the great arching ceiling of the Nave, even though Russell Levinson joked the first time I met him that it felt like we were all sitting in the hull of the upside-down Ark. I also loved the mile-long aisle. On that first day, I thought about what it must be like to be a bride floating down that aisle on her father’s arm. But most of all, I loved the people. Everyone took a moment speak, to welcome us, to inquire about our soon-to-arrive bundle of joy. Everyone made us feel at home, which of course, we were.
I will never forget that first communion I took at Saint Luke’s on that Advent Sunday. John Claypool brought the wafers around that day. He handed me mine, then he carefully broke a second one into two pieces. He gave me half and said quietly that it was for the baby, because the baby deserved a blessing, too. Then he reached down and gently touched my giant belly. As I walked down the aisle back to my seat, I cried for the first time in a long time. I cried because I knew we had found our inn, our place to rest, our place to raise our family. I cried again last May when the Bishop laid his hands on my son’s head and confirmed him as a full-fledged member of Saint Luke’s. I cried because I knew we had done right by him sixteen years ago when we first walked into this wonderful place.
Beth is married to Chris, and they are the parents of Will (15), Patrick (14), and Hannah (11).
|
