Emirembe gya Katonda

Nkwagaliza emirembe gya Katonda. I pass you the peace of God.

This is one of the phrases Roy taught me last week when I told her that I never understand much of what is going on during mass. I also learned to say the prayer that we use when crossing ourselves (which yes, I now often do before eating or at the end of praying... which means that my prayers often include Hebrew, English, and Luganda). This evening, I hope to begin learning the "Our Father" and perhaps one of the common songs that we sing.

Since I arrived, my favourite part of mass has been the passing of the peace, if only because it was the only thing I understood the first time I attended church. But also, it is comforting because it reminds me of other places and people that I sometimes wish so much to see and talk to. Of my parents' church, where visits home always meant greetings and hugs from a long list of people who played fundamental roles in my growing up years. Of my grandparents' church, where I often introduced myself as "Kenny's daughter" and which has supported me very much with finances, prayers, and encouragement. Of the house church community which has taught me so much about peace, hospitality, and simple living these last few years, and which I still feel a part of due to the frequent emails and letters. Of the relationships with friends and professors at Messiah which encouraged me to ask questions (even, or especially, those without answers) and to accept myself graciously and humbly. And now too, the circle of family and friends has been extended, so that the dark hands I grasp with love during mass are those of my family, of my teacher friends, of my neighbours, and of my students.

And so, to all of you that I love so dearly, even as we find ourselves in different contexts and on different continents, I wish for you the peace of the God of grace, of beauty, of simplicity, of love, of peace, and of constant subtle presence that sustains the life of all that lives.

Shalom.

Emirembe.

Peace.