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 you who know me well know that I’ve been
in a state of spiritual crisis for a good many years. I’ve alternated between
feeling spiritually battered and numb; the reasons aren’t really important, but
the truth of it is. And this church felt like a place where I might find
healing. And purpose. And answers…maybe? Or maybe just respite from needing answers. I felt both weepy and
happy and totally at peace during the whole service.
Some
specifics: the church is smallish (maybe about 150 or so), and located in a
city that is largely poor and mostly people of color. The church itself was
well-integrated, with families of every color—a true rarity. Lots of women in
ministry positions…a small choir that sang exactly how you’d imagine a half-black,
half-white choir would sing…a gifted pianist…a greeting time that didn’t even
bother me because every greeting seemed sweet and genuine…lots and lots of
outreach to marginalized people in their neighborhood. I haven’t looked at my
list for a while, but I’m pretty sure it was describing this church.
You
all feeling really glad for me yet? Yeah, maybe rein that feeling in just a
bit.
It wasn't really Ben's cup of tea.
We’re
actually floating the idea of splitting our time between two churches now.
Neither of us wants to go without the other, but it’s becoming quite obvious
that it may be impossible to find a church that we both love. So maybe we can split
the difference; he can be happy every other Sunday, and I can be happy on
alternate Sundays. Frankly, that seems like a pretty lousy solution, and I
welcome others.
What did Ben not like about it?
ReplyDeleteMostly the liturgy and the unfamiliar congregational songs. Also, he's not quite as progressive, theologically, as I am (although he wouldn't consider himself conservative).
ReplyDeleteWould he consider (and you) a second round at the two you're both feeling a bit drawn to? Not all Sundays are the same. Maybe something will click for one of you. I do not envy you this next part. Especially if you're feeling the Love. Capital L because it's the stuff pouring down from the Divine. I'm going to message you the other part of my thought because it'd be more appropriate for personal conversation. Oh, friend. I am truly waiting with baited breath about this.
ReplyDelete