Smelly World
Do smells trigger memories for you? They do so often with me. Last week on three occasions smells reminded me of the church where I grew up.
Last week I walked into an old church in Indianapolis. The smell, a bit musty and old, was comforting and took my thoughts to St. Matthew in Detroit, MI, with its huge stained glass windows that the light seemed to burst through most Sunday mornings. I remember the gigantic crucifix that they used to take Jesus down from after Good Friday service but then had to stop because the structure was getting to old and frail. I remember the chairs on the sides where the choirs sat facing each other with the altar area in between and sitting there in about 8th grade on one side staring at a high school boy across on the other side that I had a crush on. I remember my Godfather sitting up front and having mints in his pocket for me – those “pillow” type white mints with a bit of jelly in the middle that dissolved in my mouth and kept me quiet. I remember the church bell and how the men tolled it, and it was from that vantage point that the riots and burning buildings could clearly be seen in the late 60’s. I do remember the love the people in that church had for me.
Last week I sat on an old, wooden, hard pew in a church that smelled of Murphy’s Oil Soap. There was very little room between the pews and very straight backs. It made me remember the pews in Detroit that we cleaned with that same soap. I remember the pew my Uncle Dick and his family sat in across the church from where we sat. He sat closer to the front. I remember the pews in the back on the right where the widows sat all together appearing to comfort each other or just sharing the latest news from the neighborhood. I remember where we sat when we attended as a family which was just behind a big wooden pillar on the back left. One time Shannon fell asleep in my arms at about 4 years old or so. I had to leave the pew to go to communion; and one of the ushers, Don, gently took her and laid her on his shoulder and sat in our pew with her until I returned. I do remember the love those people had for my children.
Last week I walked down the hall in my present church as the Lenten dinner was being served. I smelled the familiar smell of food that took me back to that same church of my childhood where each Wednesday a hot lunch was served by the older women of the congregations to the students. Those mini-pizzas on Pillsbury rolls that all the boys tried to see who could eat the most, spaghetti that had sat so long the sauce was all absorbed into the noodles which is still how I like it best, and the camaraderie of those women. I remember the love those women had for each other.
When all is said and done, the church needs to be and is all about love. This Holy Week it is important for me to “walk with Christ” from Palm Sunday to Maundy Thursday to Good Friday to Easter. Some ask why I go to every service. How can I not when I think of all the love Christ has for me and has revealed to me early on in life through the people in the church where I grew up. May you feel that love at your church through the people there and may I always show you love so that you may see and feel the love of Christ through me.
(Pictured above is the 1971 Confirmation Class from St. Matthew, Detroit, MI.)
