I ventured from Brooklyn, but it was for Jesus, honest.

I write this having just returned from attending "the great Easter Vigil" at St. Thomas in midtown. Yes, I will take the hisses and boos from you dyed in the wool Brooklynites (if there are even any among you) who denounce such a besmirchment of my Brooklyn blog with tales of a foray into the whore to those whom will pony up the cash to buy her. But anyway. Yes folks we're gonna talk about god, go get your drink now, I'll wait.

My relationship with god (forgive me from quite literally yet unintentionally yoinking the phrase from some hick town preacher's pulpit and plopping it here, but I lack a better phrase) is a bit like a friend whom you call when you realize you've run out of plans and don't want to spend a night in, baking Easter eggs cookies (mightve happened just sayin'). Now granted if were to take the angry, I shall smite you heathen! approach of God, I should fully expect and deserve to have a ceiling that leaks, a roommate that squeaks and well you get the point, but I don't, I prefer to think of my luck as crap and my God as some similarly minded friend who calls me when he/she/it is bored, but otherwise leaves me to my devices (again, which might lead to baking, icing and packaging 3 dozen Easter cookies).

So that's that, it was an Anglican service which is mostly because I was tagging along with a friend, far more godly than I (hard to convince someone else to come to another sect's church, if you haven't actually been to services in 10 years). It was though quite nice and the choir and building was quite definitely worth the effort. Would I start attending again out of some god fearing/appreciation/respect/buddy-buddy feeling? Probably not, but I wouldn't mind going to another Anglican service if not for the choir then for the forced 2 1/2 hour contemplation time. It was quite nice to find some silence in a city (even in Brooklyn and don't you hipster naysayers claim otherwise) where peace is so rare.