Moved to Tears

Generally, it’s the opening strains of The Gloria in Spanish that move me, that bring tears to my eyes and make it just a little bit harder to breathe. Okay, in all fairness, the physical space that is St. John’s Episcopal Church in Sparta has always possessed the spirit to move me emotionally. It’s only as I’ve moved closer to my trip that I’ve noticed my susceptibility to The Gloria. So, today, as it was the last time I would be hearing it until I return, I was prepared to really start crying at those first notes, and I was grateful to breathe my way through that. I was touched by the faces in the congregation as one woman read the lessons. One little man has just started walking, and I thought today that I would miss him beginning to run in the narthex. Then we started reading the psalm together. I was pleased to know that I could keep up. I’ve noticed, as I get closer to my immersion, that there has been some improvement in my Spanish. Words are more readily available. My pronunciation has gotten better. I don’t feel so compelled to speak so quickly. Anyway, as we were reading the psalm, I listened to the parishioners’ voices and realized how much I wanted my voice to join theirs, and that took my breath away. As the second lesson was being read, I started thinking about the Gospel and how I wouldn’t proclaim it again at St. John’s until my return in 12 weeks. (There’s a possibility I will be able to proclaim it in a church in Central America … and please God let me proclaim it with my life!) I wondered how I would get through the reading. It was wonder-worthy. As I was reading, it occurred to me: The Gospel is why I’m going. I heard that, and I heard two meanings of it. I’m going in order to read it in Spanish with emphasis and clarity, and I’m going because the Gospel tells us all to go. It’s the clearest I’ve heard Jesus saying, “Follow me,” and I’m joyful at the voice that can move me to tears.