That peculiar smell some old churches have

*
Since last week's posting with my wish list for a new church, I've heard from someone who occasionally cleans in her own church building. She reports that recently she found a pile of fingernail clippings in the sanctuary. I never thought I'd have to say this, but I'm adding this to the list: it's important that my future church be fingernail clipping-free.

June 17

Presbyterian (USA)

            We chose this church because the denomination is on my list, and because Ben was somewhat familiar with the church, as it’s the meeting place for his weekly counseling session for men with domestic abuse issues (he’s a counselor, not a counselee).

            When we entered the stone-and-brick building, I noticed that peculiar smell some old churches have. I think it’s composed of velour pew cushions, mildewed plaster, and old peoples’ sloughed-off skin cells. And old people proved to be the operative phrase; Ben and I are 65 and 62, but our presence that morning decreased the average age of the congregation by several years.

            Neither of my two previous denominations—American Baptist and Free Methodist—are particularly liturgical, and both Ben and I appreciated that aspect of the service quite a bit. Aside from a few awkward moments when we weren’t sure what to do (stand? read aloud? say “may the force be with you”? curtsey? cross oneself? yodel?), we liked the feeling that we were participating in something firm and established, comfortable and familiar to (most of) the participants.

            Some additional positive points: I appreciated that the music wasn’t ‘led’ at all—the organist played an intro, and people just sang. There was a soloist who accompanied herself on the piano, and was probably invisible to most of the congregation from her position. Her song was lovely and performed beautifully. There was no applause. 

            The message was…well, it was okay. The take-away: God loves you. That’s dandy, but I’d hope that the messages are a bit meatier and more challenging on other Sundays (their regular minister was on vacation).

            Although we weren’t able to observe every item on my list, from a perusal of the bulletin, it seemed that the church is active in the community, with volunteer projects including contributing to a homeless shelter and food deliveries to the poor and elderly.

            We had to “pass the peace.” I’m worried that I won’t be able to avoid that. Unfortunately, other than those awkward moments of muttering “peace be with you,” no one spoke a word to us. It's a paradox: I don’t want to be instant BFFs with anyone in a church I visit, but a word of greeting would be nice. I guess.

            All in all, it was a pleasant enough morning. We’d be inclined to go back if there was just a bit more diversity—we don’t really feel drawn to be the youngest in a congregation of elderly white folks.

            Gonna give this one a 6.5 out of 10.