During my first-ever visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, housemate John and I stood in front of a late Medieval painting. The young woman was beautiful, dressed in blue and engaged in conversation with a person—albeit a person with wings. “The Annunciation,” I said, reading the title. “Sounds like an announcement.” I turned to John: “What is this painting about?”
“It’s the angel Gabriel telling Mary that she is pregnant with Jesus,” he said. “My grandfather, who grew up in the Tennessee hills and, although he was a preacher, could not read and write—he would have been able to tell you what the painting was about without even knowing the title.” Ah, but I had not been to church very often in my life, I told John.
And, at the time, I certainly didn’t know stories from the Bible. What amazes me now about this meet-and-greet is that a winged creature suddenly appears and speaks and she does not flee; she trusts, she listens. Gabriel offers a friendship that will be fleeting but transforms her world—and ours. From chapels and cathedrals, to Crusades and conquerers—Christians have changed the world, albeit not always for the better.
Even raised with only a few tastes of Christianity, I could see the power of the Church and was both repelled and attracted. When my sister, who became a born-again Christian in her teens, invited me to come try her church and share fellowship with them, I wondered what this “fellowship” was.
Now, 15 years after my adult baptism, I understand “fellowship” as an offer of kindness, of acceptance, of friendship. People often use the term “church family” to refer to their faith community and it’s understood by many as having warm connotations—family means love and caring and supporting those who need it. But families, some families, have outcasts and conflicts and remote mothers and angry fathers…then “family” means a set of harsh relationships to which one has loyalty because you are supposed to, not because you are called to.
But friendship? That’s different. You choose your friends. And in my mid-30s, I slowly began to recognize that among my friends, most of those who truly exuded a reliable source of caring were already in a friendship with God—as Creator, Redeemer or Sustainer or, as the New Zealand Prayer Book says, “Eternal Spirit, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver.”
What they had, I wanted. And I began on a new path.
Allison Campbell Jensen 