Visiting the Amazing E is always a good fillerup for the soul, but this past weekend I made it an overnight - a mid-winter treat.
Clearly, only a Bed & Breakfast would do. And ever since I found the Burnt Toast Inn (http://www.burnttoastinn.com/) in the list of Ann Arbor B&Bs, I heard the name calling to me. In the name of mini vacation I splurged on the attic suite, which features a mama bed and a Lizzie bed, and a large tiled bathroom with heated floor and meditation area. Ooohhhh. And bathrobes and slippers. No TV. Bliss.
We had an exciting Saturday evening walking to Main Street for dinner and a little shopping, then back to the room for a first-timer tax prep lesson. We took advantage of the free wireless Internet to file the taxes and watch an old Friends episode on YouTube. Necessary stuff, plus quality togetherness time ... then sleep, blessed sleep, in our cozy beds.
Morning arrived way too soon for me. (In truth, it always does.) But after savoring several cups of great coffee, a sampling of fresh fruit and organic yogurt, various Zingerman's breads and brioches (plus just a tiny taste of the thick-cut peppered bacon our hostess offered), I joined my daughter in her Sunday-morning routine. We went to church. And in true Ann Arbor style - we walked.
A rather heavenly one-mile walk - bright blue skies and surprisingly warm after recent bitterly cold temps. Then a tall building booming with life - spirit and song. There is no hiding out anonymously in the back row in this church. Each worshiper is guided into the next available open space, filling up the sanctuary from front to back.
My heart swelled - first with the realization that this is what my daughter chooses to do with her Sunday mornings. Feeling privileged and proud that she invited me to participate in her life away from home. Next, with a tremendous feeling of hope for our world as I surveyed this representative gathering of the next generation.
Scanning the room, I was struck by row after row of glossy black-haired Asian and Asian-American students, with a dozen or so blond, brown and bald heads scattered among them. I looked up and saw the flags of at least 30 countries displayed around the sanctuary.
When it was time to pass the peace, we introduced ourselves to one another. "Hi, I'm Peter. God bless you." "My name is Adam, and you are ...?" "So nice to see you. I'm Pak." Over and over.
Throughout the service, I couldn't get over the fact that about 300 college students (my quick estimate) chose to be in this place every Sunday at 9:30 a.m. What drew them here? The praise band was loud but good, and included an impressive young violinist. The message was long, but packed with power and meaning. And the students took notes. True, I saw a few squirmy ones and maybe one or two nodding off. But this was the most attentive crowd I have ever seen at a church service. These kids were engaged. And English was clearly not the first language of most. In evidence were digital translators, dictionaries and various translations of the Bible.
I didn't observe any text-messaging or playing of video games or listening to iPods. How ... interesting.
After a full two hours of worship and a benediction/sending forth that included giving each other Holy High Fives and hugs, we filed out for fellowship time in a place devoid of donuts. Nor did I smell overcooked church-basement coffee. The hospitality crew passed through the clusters of noisy (phew, that's a little more "normal") late-teen and twenty-somethings, offering trays of Triscuits with a bruschetta-like topping. Gourmet homemade macaroni and cheese was dished out onto little plates at stations around the room. Even though our next stop was lunch in Hill Dining Center, I had to have a little taste of the primo hors d'oeuvres. Oh my. I can't wait to share this with our church ladies at home.
Brioche and bruschetta. Peace and promise. This is only the beginning.
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