Quam delicta # 5: In Memory of Mary Alice Heaton

Quam delicta # 5: Pilgrimage Psalm for Altar Guilds in memory of Mary Alice Heaton 

How dear is the altar at St. Stephen’s to me O Lord!* my soul doesn’t exactly rejoice when I have to cover for someone who doesn’t show up for their altar guild duty, but my heart and my flesh still rejoice at in gleaming silver and polished brass.

The sparrow will most definitely not make a nest under your altar, O Lord of hosts,  at least not if I have anything to say about it, *but as a metaphor it works for how much at home we feel in your house, O God.

 Happy are those who wash and iron linens for the altar, O Lord, especially if they follow instructions and do not use starch, * for in decency and order will they praise you, and the less happy clappy the better.

Happy is the altar guild whose strength is in you, * whose hearts are set on the pilgrim’s way.

Those who go through hard times will find refreshment, * at the altar rail and at the font, in companionship with others who have shared the journey, and even at the grave where we make our song.

They will climb from height to height, and from that high vantage point will catch a glimpse of sacred landscapes:  * of the place at Empire, of the ranch in Wyoming, and of former times at Kemper Hall, and Flint.

For one day in your courts is better than a thousand when confined to bed, and to stand at the threshold of St. Stephen’s * is like standing at the gates of heaven, with choirs of loved ones waiting there  to bring me home.