At the National Cathedral yesterday, when I visited, they were having a Sacred Circles conference. I'm not entirely sure what they were doing, but I do know that it involved sock-footed women working their way through purple printed labyrinths and, downstairs, more women chanting and dancing in the crypt.
My friends and I were very polite. We were there to see the cathedral. So we wound our way around clockwise. We admired the stained glass windows, for they were very beautiful and the sunlight threw enchanting splashes of pink and purple on the limestone gothic arches. We went to the front altar and saw the saints and the crucifixes and the organ and the statues of Jesus. We climbed up into the choir loft, and oh, it was lovely. The narrow passages, lit only by narrow slit windows, felt like something straight from the Hundred Years' War.
At about four o'clock they announced evening vespers, so three of us went. It was the evening service from the Book of Common prayer and was nearly all Scripture readings. It was great--except that our chaplain was a woman. Whatever happened to male leadership?
"These people honor Me with their lips, but their hearts are far from Me."