Friday,I went to St. Michael's Church for Good Friday Service. The Neo-Gothic Episcopal Church has a stunning stained glass window by Louis Comfort Tiffany of the Archangel Michael.
The window is magnificent and if you are going to believe in angels, St. Michael is a good place to start. He's an archangel in Jewish, Christian and Islamic tradition. The guy gets around. He's also no wuss, looks great in armor, and carries a serious spear. He wreaks havoc with evil and in his spare time (like he would have any in today's world) is the patron Saint of Chivalry. Maybe that explains its scarcity.
Although I'm not a regular church goer, I always go (if at all possible) on Good Friday. I sit in the small side chapel among the Tiffany glass and 19th century memorial windows and reflect on the years past and the one coming up.
I think about my Great Aunt Fanny and Great Aunt Tish that went to mass every morning. About my maternal Grandmother, who used to talk to God when she rolled pastry dough, reminding him of neighbor who was having problems, or family member who needed a bit of grace to see them through.
My father's mother, Nannie, who walked up the hill to church every day during final exams to pray for her grandson, Drew's passing grades. I remember my mother's last words to me were "I'm ready to go see God now."
They were better at formal religion than I am but some part of me has the gene that draws me there for a quiet hour of reflection and remembering. And gratitude that someone had enought faith in angels to make a magnificent window like this one.
