Surrendering

Last night I felt sorrow

deeper than I have in months,

that deep, sinking feeling in my gut,

its realization consuming and

washing over me all at once.

These people, places, faces

that used to be at arm’s length

aren't anymore

and won't be for a while.

This all transcended upon me

on a Saturday night,

so I awoke craving church smells

worn wooden pews

fresh crisply folded bulletins

lukewarm coffee

and church sounds

clanging bells

in this case

Mardi Gras horns.

I arrive one minute past

the service's start

with a dozen other slow risers,

relief flooding my mind,

as the New Orleans Dixieland jazz

engulfs me,

cornet riffs and

colorful stained sunshine

radiating through the chapel.

I find myself

waving a white hankie,

conveniently draped over

the dark-stained wood beside me.

We're all standing

waving our white flags

to the processional music,

surrendering.

I'm surrendering

and soon enough

I feel joy

deeper than I have in months,

as strangers pop rainbow streamers

into my shining teeth

and wrap gaudy plastic purple beads

around my neck.

My spirit transcends

when I'm given a sign,

for today the sermon is on

'transfiguration,'

which happens to be the name

of the church I grew up in.

"Transfiguration"—

metamorphosis in Greek—

Jesus bedazzled atop a mountain

sparkling,

a glimpse of God's glory

if for no other reason

than for others to savor it

with no explanation.

And I feel it today,

the transformation

the love in this community

and joy

so much joy

as I laugh and smile

and hoot and holler

with these strangers.

I make eye contact with the priest

who nods in understanding.

"We are all mystics

and the mystery of God

captivates us deeply."

The last hymn went horribly;

no one could catch on or keep up

with the organ.

We all smile at each other,

laughter in our eyes

as the pianist plunks away,

the colorful streamers

sitting in puddles

on the tile below

watching us.

We are followed out of the church

by five horns,

a trumpet nearly deafening me,

deafening any doubt of

faith instilled in me.

We gather outside around

hundreds of donut holes

and lukewarm coffee.

I sip on it slowly,

savoring its warmth

that never scolds

as I take in the surrounding joy.

Sometimes we must surrender

to the joy of mystery,

if for no other reason

than to savor it

with no explanation.