You would not be alone in this uneasiness, as bookstore shelves groaning with “self-help” literature attest. However, there is a potential resource that we Estonians may be overlooking when searching for relief — our churches.
What has brought me into church recently on a more regular basis than usual is my daughter's impending confirmation. Therefore, I speak not as someone “holier than thou” but as a fellow traveler who would just like to open a friendly discussion about the value that church attendance might add to our brief sojourn on this earth.
Church could be an oasis of serenity in our harried lives. First there's the physical plant; four solid walls that shut out the temporal temporarily with a soaring ceiling to accommodate thoughts rising to a higher plane. Then there is the connection with the community of companion worshippers as well as the generations who have occupied the pews decades earlier, their hopes and prayers lingering in the air.
The familiar rituals have their own comfort to offer, again expanding the sense that people have been participating in similar ways over centuries, a constant in a world of change and turmoil.
The sermon of the day may speak to you directly or not, but it seldom leaves you without something worthwhile to think about, something above the usual drivel that assaults us from modern media.
If you stop counting the lamps and organ pipes focusing on a finite number of things and open your mind to ideas instead, letting it fly free toward the infinite, the result may surprise you. It's key to realize that as an active listener and processor, you yourself contribute to how much you might get out of any given sermon. Most clergy are truly admirable and underappreciated, unlike the false “heroes” lionized by our culture, and try their best to encourage spiritual evolution but we need to bring something to the equation for it to work. Even the most inspiring speaker can do little with a distracted mind compiling a laundry list of chores. On the other hand, a serviceable delivery should not prevent us from mining nuggets of wisdom, proven gold through millennia of use.
Besides the beauty of The Word, churches are repositories for other kinds of beauty. Many contain stained glass and additional works of art. Today's altar flower arrangements were the epitome of spring, with tulips and pussy willows intertwined by an artistic hand. Sprays of willows also framed the pulpit and organ in a soft filigree. How they gladdened the eye.
Music is another channel for beauty in the church. Today there was a mini concert of such quality that it was a blessing to hear. A young songstress, Kristina Agur, sang like a nightingale, gifting us with Handel and Bach. A virtuoso cellist, André Pere performed three pieces by Estonian composers. The one by Lembit Avesson, accompanied by the composer-organist brought a tear to many eyes through its sheer loveliness.
It occurred to me during the service, what a shame that we have not availed ourselves more of the opportunity that church attendance presents to find serenity. We rush about, possibly “looking for it in all the wrong places”. Luckily, the welcome mat on any church is always out without judgment. As we all know, change, even one that benefits us, can be daunting. It is more easily made gradually, incrementally. Perhaps those of us who show up only for the Christmas service could increase our attendance to a half dozen times a year, those who already do so might consider monthly attendance and so on. The more congregants, the more enjoyable the experience for everyone.
Some of our elderly would like to attend church more often but are defeated by the logistics of transportation and their frailty. Everyone would benefit if those with transportation offered a ride to those without. Estonians are so admirably self-sufficient that we do not always recognize that aging makes complete self-sufficiency impossible except for the lucky few.