by Janet Lonsdale

My journey towards St. Augustine's started with my baptism and upbringing in the Episcopal Church. My grandmother was very devout, and I remember attending church with her, kneeling beside her as she shared her Book of Common Prayer with me, guiding me through the service. I loved the language and the ritual and the seriousness of it. I was intrigued and attracted to the idea of faith, and sought it out by learning the catechism and becoming confirmed. But afterwards, I had my doubts, and wondered whether I understood what it meant to be a Christian. I know I did not understand what it meant to be an Episcopalian, beyond the fact that we used the Book of Common Prayer and that it was connected somehow to the Church of England. I stopped going to church in my late teens. I decided I didn't know whether I believed in God, or Jesus, or the Holy Trinity. I was sure organized religion with its strictness on the role of women wasn't for me. Too many questions, and I wasn't ready or willing to take the time to find answers.

That was 30 years ago. I went to college, moved to New York City, got married, moved to LA. In NY, I attended services occasionally, and after I married I went to Catholic mass with my husband when visiting his family. Even though I was drawn to church, probably out of the comfort of the familiar, I felt faintly dishonest being there when I did not have a strong basic belief. The desire to return to the Episcopal Church began tentatively. It became stronger over the years as I finally accepted my belief in God and began to understand that the Christian faith was as valid a way to know God as any other religion. And it seemed to me that the church that I was brought up in, which has changed a bit over the years, was as good a place as any in which to explore my spirituality. Still, it would be a while before I did anything about it.

I moved to the Westside in 1994, after the earthquake. When I got here, I made a list of all the Episcopal churches in the area. But a job that took me out of town for months at a time, and a mountain cabin that took us away on weekends, were major distractions to joining a church. I still had that list when I was diagnosed with breast cancer last fall. It seemed time at last to find a place to ask the questions and find the answers. So I started visiting churches and in January of this year, my husband and I found ourselves at the 7:30 a.m. service at St. Augustine by-the-Sea. In subsequent visits to the 9:00 and 11:00 a.m. services, I found what I was looking for. I loved the diversity of the services, the wonderful sermons which began to answer some questions for me, and the vibrant life of the parish. But most important, I heard the invitation to join no matter where I was on my spiritual journey. Skeptics and believers alike were welcome.

I attended the newcomer's meeting last spring and hesitated only slightly before I joined the parish. The usual fears of commitment and the unknown held me back. But then I thought, why wait, when I have waited long enough. I'll just plunge in, but go at my own pace, and maybe I'll find some answers.