Loved, Part Two: CLC

I think you'll have to indulge a few days of nostalgia, or else come back next week when my life is a bit more settled. I'm leaving Oxford on Thursday. I'm trying to spend the next few days digesting what I've learned.

One of the priests at the chaplaincy suggested to me in October that I ought to join the Christian Life Community group here in Oxford as part of my marriage preparation. CLC is a lay Jesuit organization based on small groups of Catholic Christians praying together in community. The prayer is usually done as imaginative contemplation. To begin with, I was really skeptical. Imaginative contemplation seemed like a glorified RPG with disciples instead of wizards and a prayer guide instead of a DM. I've been really blessed to find out I was wrong.

I've posted before about imaginative contemplation. But I don't think I've put much effort into conveying how special and life-changing the community has been for me. There are six of us--three guys and three girls. We meet once a week to talk and pray. It's been absolutely wonderful being a such a consistently open and loving community. I've felt really loved and cherished.

More than that, though, the experience has really changed the way I perceive other people as Christians. I used to discount spiritual experiences I hadn't had--it seemed too impossible and distant to imagine there was more out there. But here I was, spending a night each week with five other people with distinct prayer lives and relationships with God. In a setting that intimate, there's no way to deny there are things about faith I don't understand. At the same time, the experience has made me feel more secure about myself as a Christian. I no longer feel compelled to squeeze my faith into the mold of the contemplative life--Christianity is more diverse than that. I'm not a contemplative, so I feel much happier in my relationship with God when I'm not trying to be.

Most importantly, CLC has told me a lot about love in action. After each prayer session, every member shares his or her experiences. It's just a time of sharing--no comments or responses. I've never had to listen that way, without considering a rebuttal or advice. It sharpened my attention on what it was my group members we saying and made their experiences seem more real. It forced me to be still in a way I never had before. When we started the group, I was always anxious about how long meditations would last. I needed to know I how long I would have to keep my mind quiet. Now, I usually feel comfortable in the silence. I don't always have the concentration to pray as long as the other members of my group, but I can enjoy the stillness of patiently waiting for them, basking in God's love and our love as a group.

So, I'm very grateful for CLC. I think the experience has made me more human and more willing to accept the humanity of others. I can't think of a more valuable lesson for marriage, or for life. Thank you.

Friends Abroad

Adam and I have friends in many, many different places. That's one of the consequences of our unusual, long-distance relationship. I've lived in four states and two countries in the past three years; Adam, about the same. But very few of our friends are left in the city where we're getting married.

It's a bit bizarre planning a wedding to which you expect very few of your friends to be able to come. The reception promised to be fun, but with an unusually venerable group of attendees. What kind of music do you choose when the average audience-member is likely to be closer to fifty than thirty? And to whom do you throw the bouquet when the only "maids" at your wedding are your bridesmaids? I love my family. I'm excited to celebrate with them. Still, I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that so many people I care about would be excluded from our big day on the basis of sheer distance. Adam and I have always been a bit too self-conscious about friendships to presume on anyone's time or dime by inviting them to our wedding from so far away.

That's why I've been truly amazed by the outpouring of support Adam and I have had from our geographically-diverse friends:

• A few of my friends in England made it clear they expected to be invited. What a wonderful way to make me feel loved! They knew how much it meant to be and took for granted they would do whatever they could to come.
• An impressive number of people from DC have volunteered to travel by planes, trains, and automobiles the five hundred miles between Washington and Atlanta. We haven't lived in DC for two years, but our friends share our strong feelings of affection and community. We are so excited to be joining them again.
  
• Encouraged by my success--and a few prods from interested friends--Adam finally broke down and asked his Seattle friends who would like to be invited to our wedding. Again, we've felt so loved by the number of people who want to, or sincerely wish they could, travel across the country to spend the day with us.
• Not to mention, of course, Adam's relatives--all of whom have many miles to travel to come to Atlanta--and my South Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi relatives who will be trekking with kids in tow.
  

Overall, the whole experience of getting married has really highlighted how loved I am--not just by Adam, but by all of our friends and family. Whether you're coming to the wedding, or wish you could come, or have been faithfully following my ramblings on this blog, we appreciate your friendship.