Sunday, May 15, 2011

Listening to Boston University March Chapel on WBUR

It's both odd and normal. I use to never listen, being as I don't really believe there is one entity up there judging us. I do believe there are gods, several of them, it is the judgmental part where I think I fall down. I usually shut off WBUR when the church service starts and flip on the tv to mindlessly channel surf.

The service after my Dad died, was different. He was being waked that Sunday evening, and I was sitting listening to the radio and staring out into space. Looking not at my living room wall, but both before it and past it. Looking at nothing seeing nothing. The service came on and instead of shutting off the radio I let it play. I don't remember what the homely was what the songs were, or even who spoke, but as the service ended at noon, I felt better. Not quite to hollow, not quite so lost. I still had lost my Dad, my buddy my friend the guy who got me addicted to the Red Sox and cheered with me when they finally won a championship or two.

Since then my Sunday practice has been to flip on WBUR for the Marsh Chapel at Boston University and listen to the mass. I doubt I will ever set foot in the chapel, but just hearing the voices raised up to the god of my childhood is comforting. Today's service was on the subject "I believe".

Still the real world sneaks in. One of the students was reading something she had written about her beliefs. She prefaced each paragraph with "I believe" and I heard Larry the Cable Guy each and every time she said it. She was crying at the Chapel, I was giggling in Revere. Not about her reading, I know it was deep and meaningful to her. But I could not help it, I kept hearing Larry the Cable Guy. It's kind of like how I can't listen to Bruce Springfield any more after hearing Robin Williams do Elmer Fudd doing Bruce Springfield. "I'm on Fwera

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