Royal York Road United Church

Quite a mouthful, eh Ms J? It's a new church and an old church. Let me explain. My own church here in Mimico is closed for the month of July. I've made a point of attending a new church each Sunday this month. This morning, it was Royal York. It felt a little like a homecoming because I used to attend that church. It was so long ago. Two wifetimes ago.

When we were little, Mum took us to church each week. All six of us. If for some reason I was unable to go, I was allowed to stay home and watch Bullwinkle with Dad. I didn't see Bullwinkle very often. Our church then, was Queensway United Church. The congregation got smaller and smaller until we had no choice but to abandon our church building and amalgamate with another congregation. It was Royal York Road United Church who took us in. They were a much wealthier group and I didn't like it there much.

Actually, I was at an age when I was starting to question religion. I was about Meagan's age (13), and starting to question all my parents' beliefs. I rejected most of it outright. Just because. I remember watching my mother head upstairs to church while I pretended to go downstairs to Sunday school. As soon as she was out of sight, I'd head off up the road to spend my collection money on candy. I felt no guilt. I was happy. Mum was happy. I'd arrive back at the car when it was time to go home.

I thought of that this morning while I endured the most boring sermon I've ever heard. I wonder if Mum ever knew what I did? What might she have done? Would she have made me feel guilty for stealing money from the church? I suppose she would have conceded my new agnosticism and left me home with Dad and Bullwinkle.

While the preacher droned on this morning, I looked around the sanctuary and noticed the details. Things you might not see unless you were really looking. New speakers on the wooden rafters high above the floor. How did they get them up there, I wondered. They'd need a massive step ladder. Or scaffolding. The windows were stained glass, but not particularly inspiring. They did not depict great biblical tableaux like the ones at Wesley Mimico United. They were just pieces of glass, different colours and shapes, all sewn together with dull strips of lead. The standard wooden cross on the wall behind the altar was smaller than I remember it, and bore intricately carved designs. I decided it was ostentatious and allowed my thoughts to continue meandering.

I got married in that church. We all did. Three sisters and a brother. I don't recall the date now, but it was in the spring of 1985. The minister who married us is dead now. My inlaws are both dead. The marriage itself is long dead. It was doomed from the beginning because although Dan and Scout both love their mother, I never did. I thought a lot about that, too.

I made a mistake, Ms Journal. A costly mistake. My lack of judgement, my lack of wisdom and experience brought pain not only to me, but to Kelly and most especially to two innocent children. Guilt? Yeah, I've got some of that. It's less that it used to be, but it still comes to visit my heart from time to time in quiet moments. And it still hurts a bit.

But I've got Dan and Meagan, haven't I? I wouldn't have met them if I hadn't married Kelly. Both kids have rejected the church, as I did when I was that age. I was 13 when I stopped attending church. At 26, I strode back into that sanctuary. But only to get married.

Ultimately, it was the storms of Life that eventually blew me back to church. I have Donna (my second wife) to thank for that. Insecurity and my desperate need for romantic Love led me to follow her down a path toward illegal drugs and illicit sex. And lies. And more lies. Despite this, I was absolutely shattered when she ended our marriage in 2000. No one could help me. Nothing could take away my pain. I thought my cheeks would never dry. So I went to church, and there I found peace. I found new friends. I found a new, healthier and happier Life.

It's my birthday today. I'm 47. I don't have Life all figured out. But I do understand myself and my Self a bit better today. I'm no sage or wise prophet, but I can tell you this with assurance:

There has been an alarming increase in the number of things I know nothing about.

And that's fine with me. My Life is, and has been, moving in the direction that will offer me the greatest challenges and therefore the greatest opportunities to learn and to grow, for myself and for others and to the glory of God.

It does however, seem a dreadful tragedy that a man might live out two-thirds of his Life before arriving at such a conclusion.

Happy Birthday, Dale. I love you. Unconditionally.

Me

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