Lindsey's Prayer Shawl: Adventures in Community, Part II

And so I knitted, taking twice as long with the smaller stitches. Lindsey’s Mom had already completed a second shawl for our student intern. But this labor of love is endlessly fascinating because of the metaphors I find in Lindsey’s shawl. To represent the forever “hug” of the shawl, I knitted in two bands of dark purple to lie across Lindsey’s shoulders. I wanted the texture of the bands to be rows of solid knit stitch, and in the process of experimenting, learned how different knots and colors relate to each other when they face each other on the needle. I couldn’t help thinking of all the little knots as people. Then, because of choices I had made, the shawl has a top and an underside. No, this shawl is far from perfect, but its character has a lot to say to Lindsey and our community when she decides to begin the conformation journey and I present it to her as part of her “gear” for the trip.

When I was a little younger than Lindsey, the rite of passage was called “Communicants’ Class,” and the point being to understand a little of how the church “worked” especially regarding the sacraments and pledging, and to take a written quiz. This took four Sunday afternoons and a couple weeks later, without question, we all joined the church. Since we received our Bibles in fourth grade, upon joining the church, we received our individually numbered, personalized offering envelopes and a blank Time and Talent form. Ugh!

No one would design the shawl I’m knitting: it has been prayed, revealed, experienced. Sure, it has a pattern of stitches to follow, but in my hands it becomes unique. Just like Lindsey. Just like my little faith community that has worship–in-the-round in a t-shaped basement, uses no paper bulletins or newsletters, rather keeps up with each other through weekly e-mail updates from the pastor and has song lyrics and prayers projected onto a screen. Couches, end tables, throw rugs and not-really-overstuffed chairs furnish our space. When folks ask me what it’s like, I say, “It’s like worship when you go on retreat. It’s creative, and less formal. All the parts are there, like a prayer of confession and the Word proclaimed when Communion is served. Instead of an organ, our band is sort of a cross between James Taylor and John Barry. And when we light candles to remind us that we, too, are Light in the World, I make sure to light five candles, one for each one in my family.”