When asked what I do in Florence, I have a litany of responses—write, visit museums and churches, and eat. Lately I’ve added a new one; I walk around with God. At first I figured some people would get it, and some wouldn’t; how arrogant of me. Of course they get it; they’re human. We all long for the ineffable, named by all faith traditions, searched for by agnostics, and acknowledged by atheists. It’s a feeling, a natural knowing, beyond words.
For years I stayed away from God talk, even from saying the word. During my years as a Unitarian God was not mentioned in the church I attended. When I joined my present church (United Church of Christ), I told people that I wanted a ‘God church.’ I kept my faith quest to myself, limiting conversation, except to mention what wonderful church I went to, which is code for some kind of surrender to God.
This morning I was out of my apartment by seven to walk around with God on a visit to the many churches in Florence. That’s what I thought I was going to write about when I opened my computer here at the la Fellrinelli Café. To my surprise, out came this confession.
Perhaps the catalyst is the elderly gentleman who has been a daily fixture during for the four years I have been coming here to write. He always wears a suit, and this September a large white bandage covers one side of his bald head. Sometimes he sits with friends and holds court. Today for the past hour he has been wandering about. Whether he knows it or not, I believe he is walking around with God.
For years I stayed away from God talk, even from saying the word. During my years as a Unitarian God was not mentioned in the church I attended. When I joined my present church (United Church of Christ), I told people that I wanted a ‘God church.’ I kept my faith quest to myself, limiting conversation, except to mention what wonderful church I went to, which is code for some kind of surrender to God.
This morning I was out of my apartment by seven to walk around with God on a visit to the many churches in Florence. That’s what I thought I was going to write about when I opened my computer here at the la Fellrinelli Café. To my surprise, out came this confession.
Perhaps the catalyst is the elderly gentleman who has been a daily fixture during for the four years I have been coming here to write. He always wears a suit, and this September a large white bandage covers one side of his bald head. Sometimes he sits with friends and holds court. Today for the past hour he has been wandering about. Whether he knows it or not, I believe he is walking around with God.