My (devout atheist) father learned the Hail Mary because apparently the ability to recite it got you into Catholic School dances in Cincinnati in the early 60s.

I would totally go to an Episcopal church for the ritual and music, but I would feel really bad because I don't believe in god, so I don't. Except to the festival of lessons and carols at Christmas, because, music.

My (devout atheist) father learned the Hail Mary because apparently the ability to recite it got you into Catholic School dances in Cincinnati in the early 60s

My dad is very amused that everything I know about Catholicism is which bits have been "borrowed" for ritual magic. Not that ritual/Ceremonial Magic(k) is my thing, because it's waaaaay too reliant on memorization and geometry.

New French press achieved.

Unfortunately, in attempting to pack up my Travel Aeropress Kit i got part of the grinder stuck in the plunger. So now I am trying to MacGyver it back out instead of working.

I think that actively being a non-a-hole while identifying as Christian is me trying to help turn back the tide. Plus, I feel like, given his behavior while he was hanging out here, that Jesus would be/is a much bigger fan of liberalism than conservatism.

Yep and yep.

Jilli's dad is indeed awesome, and Luther-like! And we're grateful because he helped give us Jilli!

when he's trying to go to sleep, he'll still recite the Our Father and other prayers in his head, because the ritual is still soothing.

When I was little, we'd visit relatives who lived in the mountains, invariably on weekends, and attend church with them on Sunday. I have such nostalgia-tinted memories of small white-painted churches, surrounded by huge green trees glimpsed through pointed clear-glass windows, while the congregation sang traditional hymns, kept more or less on key by the piano. There are times when I'm feeling swamped by life, or low and helpless, when those memories are bright and pleasant. I have the urge to seek out a small church some Sunday and slip inside to join in hymn-singing. Even though I'm aware that it would not match my memories, either in beauty nor in comfort.

Gave up. I have tools at home that will make this easier. I guess I can do some actual work.

The Methodists have some of the best hymns ever. Excellent training for a singer.

Learned my harmony in church. Musical harmony, anyway. And singing different melodies at the same time, which can be tricky if you've never done it. I can still sing the descant to Silent Night, which is a whole different song, thanks to church.

Grew up Southern Baptist, have over the years been Methodist (partly because my high school crush was in their youth group...), Presbyterian of both Presbyterian Church in America (conservative/evangelical) and PC-USA (mainline) variety (though I always loathed the doctrine of predestination, to the point of cutting church on weeks I could tell a sermon series was about to hit a Calvinistic proof text) and am now, as of a year and a half ago, confirmed as an Episcopalian.

I'm happy in the Episcopal Church because through all my years as an evangelical and even as a mainline Presbyterian, my faith was almost an intellectual exercise, trying to believe the right things and manufacture the right reactions and emotions. Not that I wasn't sincere the vast majority of the time, but there was still a performance aspect to it. I knew what was expected of me, and I tried to be that person. Now at Saint Andrew's, it feels like I'm stepping into something bigger than I am, that regardless of what I bring to any given service, the Word, liturgy, and Eucharist stand on their own merits and are there to meet me.

But I really don't know what I believe right now. I call myself an agnostic who practices Christianity. I hope there's something more than just this life--very specifically that my parents and my best friend from college who died suddenly four years ago are still there somehow and someday in some form I'll see them again--but I certainly don't KNOW that there is, and many days it seems horribly likely that the whole thing was made up by people like me who just can't get comfortable with their own mortality. Still, it means something to me to count myself a Christian, and to have some connection to the story I grew up on. I don't even go to church every week anymore, but that in its own way feels like taking ownership of my faith--like, it's not about duty and expectations, and it's OK if some weeks I'm not feeling it or if I just need some more introvert time that weekend.

Totally forgot it was run off election day in Chicago, so rather than nap, I just voted. Good thing I left early.