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I didn't even mind that we got red crepe paper streamers (it made sense, in context)

In late June, I went with my daughter and two good friends to a protest march, holding signs that decried the current administration’s then-policy of separating families at the border. At that rally, a pastor spoke about love and unity and peace. Her words were mostly secular, as was appropriate for that rally, but I was drawn to them, and when the rally started to disperse, I sought her out and asked what church she pastored. She gave me her card, with this statement on the back, and I knew immediately that it was a church I wanted to check out. Well, it’s been a busy summer. Sometimes we were away from home, sometimes we had company, and we looked at several churches that were geographically closer to us. As you’ve seen if you’re following this blog (all five of you), none of those churches were quite right. Today was the first Sunday when it worked out to visit the church on this card, 28 miles away. I loved this church. I’ve hinted a bit about this, and those of y

But there was dinner at an Italian restaurant afterward, and tiramisu

Church of God Not this one, either. I don’t even want to go into the reasons—it was a perfectly lovely church, with nothing specifically wrong with anything in the service. I disagreed with one thing in the sermon—one little sentence in an otherwise well-done message—but that wouldn’t be a deal-breaker. I don’t expect a perfect church. The church I’d gone to for over 40 years wasn’t perfect, but I loved it. I’m quite frustrated and sad, and I’m thinking that it’s my own spiritual brokenness that’s keeping me from feeling comfortable in any of the churches we’ve visited. My current spiritual languages are doubt and rebellion, and Sunday morning church services aren’t conducted in those tongues, so that I feel as if I’m attending services in a country where the language is only somewhat familiar to me. Next week, we’ll be vacationing with friends, and the following week, we’re trying a church that will be way outside

But why is the clipart pastor preaching from the yellow pages?

Of the liberal-leaning churches on my list, almost all have women pastors. I’m delighted to see women in church leadership, and not surprised that they aren’t often seen in more conservative denominations. I’m just sorry that there’s not a more even distribution of male and female leadership across all denominations. Another observation--of the churches we’ve visited so far, there's a correlation: the older the church building, the grayer the hair of the congregation. Someone should do a study on that. Here's a tongue-in-cheek link from the satire site The Babylon Bee. It's fun, and not too far from the truth--but I think introversion is largely misunderstood, and also perhaps the reason that Ben and I are having such difficulty finding a place that works for both of us. The two churches that he's liked most were the most extroverted. And it's not really about hugging, or "passing the peace," or even talking to people. I don't mind any of thos

Yes, this is a real thing. Shaking my head.

We took a week off from our search because we had a visiting granddaughter. Visiting unknown churches is awkward enough without the added awkwardness of a child who may or may not find enough in the service to keep her interested--or at least still. And what if the unknown pastor should say something heretical, or just plain wrong? I don't want to have to explain to her that no, Jesus never rode dinosaurs.

One thing I love, one complaint, one shameless plug

This is something I love about Ben. No matter what the song, no matter whether he knows it or not, no matter if the congregation is one which barely moves their lips to sing or one which sings with gusto, he’s going to sing it loud. One of the things I was most looking forward to when visiting churches outside our home territory was having a great excuse to eat Sunday dinner in a local restaurant. Well, that hasn’t happened even once, because the churches we’ve visited have all had services too early in the morning. This doesn't seem at all fair. In other news, I posted a thing on Facebook Monday that went micro-viral. That is to say, it got quite a few comments and even some shares. It was perhaps the truest thing I've ever written (aside from those times when I've written about my hatred of bugs), and if you missed it on Monday, you can read it here . It's not about church; it's about these two little girls. God makes a cameo appearance.

Pretty sure they're not looking for a chef to prepare meals for the homeless

July 22 Congregational (UCC) Nope. Nopity nope nope. Not this one. In my research into denominations that I thought worth checking into, this one showed up frequently. It’s the denomination of my favorite recent ex-president, and I like their stance on many social issues. But no. It’s a gorgeous church building, with a pale blue and white sanctuary, a rose window, and a pipe organ. The musicians for the morning included a classical bassist, who played at several points throughout the service, sometimes in concert with the piano or the pipe organ. There was no “old church” smell here as in our first church —but there was a smell. It smelled of privilege , not my favorite fragrance. It’s funny. These good people were for the most part middle-aged, white, and well-to-do. While that’s a description that could easily apply to me, these are not my people. They make me itch. Their activities for the next few weeks include a jazz festival. Congregants are being urged to give ext