Grace Episcopal Cathedral

The Episcopal church that I went to last Sunday is in a beautiful Gothic cathedral, very close to the beautiful Gothic style high school that I attended.  I've been to it a few times for things unrelated to church.  Every year, my high school choir did a Spring concert at Grace Cathedral.  The acoustics, the incredible organ, and the ambiance usually made for our best concert of the year.  Most recently, I attended the annual event that Grace hosts, Silents in the Cathedral, in which old spooky silent films are shown, right around Halloween.  Obviously, Grace is all for using its beautiful space as a gift to the community.  I was excited to learn more about what happens on Sunday mornings in this place I'd been to only on weekday evenings.

As I walked in, I realized that I hadn't been to church in a month!  I'm glad I did this project, but it's not always fun visiting a new church by yourself, especially when you don't believe a lot of what's being said during the sermon.  Still, I committed to this for a reason.  I was glad to be following through with my plan that morning.

The service reminded me of the Catholic service I attended a couple of months ago (you can read about that here) in its rigidity, its weekly Eucharist, and the formality of the service.  One thing that I liked about Grace even before I attended was the effort the staff members made to make visitors feel welcomed by providing a Get Acquainted document on their website with the hopes that it would make all of the rituals and processes a little less confusing and foreign.  Of course, I still fumbled through the service, failing at my attempt to look natural. 

The readings were all on the End Times: Isaiah 65 17-25, which paints a picture of what the redeemed kingdom will look like; Thessalonians 3:6-13, which exhorted the members of the young church to continue living their lives and not putting down everything to wait for Jesus to return, which many of them were doing; and Luke 21:5-19, in which Jesus warns his disciples of things that must happen before the end can come ("Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes...")  When I realized this sermon would be on the End Times, I braced myself (excitedly) for a much more liberal interpretation of End Times prophecies than I've heard at my church.

I'm going to go off on a little tangent.  The End Times!!  I don't remember being terribly fixated on when Jesus would return before we moved here (though I remember sermons on it).  Sidenote to the sidenote: Brief church-going history for me [in order]: 6 years at a Presbyterian church, 2 years at a Four Square church, 3 years at a Vineyard church, 5 years at a Methodist church, then 7 years at the Bible church I have attended where I live now, plus summers at a Methodist or Congregational church with my gradma.  My parents weren't just indecisive; we moved a few times.  I'm guessing that the Four Square church talked a lot about Jesus' return, but it wasn't until we began going to the Bible church here when I was 15 that it became preached to me again and I began taking it in more. Basically, the church I'm at right now is very Biblical.  I love the pastor because he really works to remain true to the Bible- all of it, even those counter-cultural passages like the ones above.  I always trusted his teaching and I'm sure that he is sincere in his beliefs.  My apprehension about the idea of an Apocalypse has nothing to do with any cooky presentation or weird twist on Scripture.  I've just never longed for Jesus' return the way that my parents or some people I know do.  The idea of earthquakes, plagues, an antichrist, and even Jesus "rescuing" his followers from this world scared me.  Not to mention my abhorrence of the thought that all the believers would be rescued, but all of my nonchristian friends, no matter how lovely or gracious or helpful, would be tormented here on earth, then sent for more torment in hell.  I avoided learning about the End Times scripture partly because I figured my time was better spent trying to live for God in the here and now and let him worry about when he was going to fulfill his prophecies.  Then there's the Dispensationalists who search for signs that God is returning, or when signs are not showing up, force them in the hope that they will speed up God's return (i.e. supporting Israel no matter how unfair they are with Palestine because you believe that they are the ones who are vital to God's plan of returning- I read a book several years ago on this, Whose Land?  Whose Promise).  I haven't been able to really ignore End Times prophecy, however, because my parents (and some friends) are really into it.  My mom actually thought that Obama may have been the antichrist.  She's taken a 2 year Bible study on Revelation and  considers herself quite the expert, often saying things to me like "There really are so many signs right now that the End is near."  Then there's my dad, who pipes into discussions on future plans, even for things as mini as weekends away, with this comment "Well you never know for sure.  Jesus might return before then!"  And he's being dead serious.  So, with my notions of what Apocalypse sermons meant, I really wondered how this Episcopal pastor would tread on the waters of End Times scripture.

Indeed, it was different.  The preacher said "Excessive concern about the End Times is a distortion of God's word."  Whoa!  On the gospel passage, he said that many get excited and believe that Jesus is naming things that must happen before the Day of Judgment can come, but that he thinks they are taking it too literally.  He believes that when Jesus says "As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down," Jesus was encouraging the disciples (and us) to remember that all we see will turn to dust, but that we need to place value in the everlasting and do our best to live every day dwelling in the fruits of the Spirit, not fixated on when the End will come.  The preacher acknowledged that to live looking ahead, waiting impatiently for the End, and trying to be fully here and contributing to this world is impossible.  "We are called to serve God in this world, not to sit and look to the sky for signs."  He said this wonderfully un-dispensationalist (I'm sure there's a word for that) statement: "The future belongs to God, and that's all I really need to know."

There always seem to be some "I'm new here" blunders, and this Sunday was no exception.  During communion, I went forward, scanning the people who were getting Eucharised in front of me to try and see how it was done here, thinking "I should have read the pdf document more carefully!"  I remembered that you were supposed to place your right hand over your left to receive the wafer, and then you'd get to dip it into the goblet of wine... right?  Actually, you keep it in your hands like that and the guy in charge of the blood of Jesus will pick it up, dip it in the wine, then feed it to you.  It all happened so fast!  I realized as he was moving the half-soaked wafer from the gold goblet to my confusedly opened mouth that he was going for the tongue.  I moved my mouth to prepare for landing, but somehow my teeth got in the way and he bumped into them.  Then, I about bit his finger off, trying to move again.  He awkwardly said, "Sorry!" then I moved along.

Then, after the wafer was down and communion had ended, the congregation stood up and began doing what I thought was the greeting part of the sermon.  I thought it was a strange part of the service to be greeting (they'd not had a greeting portion earlier in the service), but I went along with it.  When someone behind me shook my hand and said something, I said "Good!  How are you?" then another hand was reaching towards me for a shake, this time the owner of the hand was more articulate.  "Peace."  Ohhhh, this was a congressional reminder that because we had been cleansed and forgiven, we now had peace.  I caught on after that :)  "Peace... peace... peace..."

Other notable things about this visit were the music and the aggressive style of making me feel welcome.  Because of those same acoustics that helped make my high school choir sound so heavenly, the music was stunning (and the choir talented).  I was given a hand out on a Grace Cathedral concert series.  It is nice of them to loan their majestic venue out to musicians, or really, the community.  Also, the level of "We've got to meet the new girl" here was comparable to the level at Antioch Missionary Baptist Church.  Both churches had one or two staff members eying congregants like hawks, making sure they noticed strangers.  Once a newbie was identified, after the service, the newbie was sure to get a firm hand shake, a welcome gift bag, a guided tour down toward the lobby area, then refreshments.  No newbie can opt out of any of those things, not with the skilled salesmen the churches have on staff.  Haha!  I will say, it made me feel welcomed, but maybe slightly guilty, since I will not be returning, at least not for a church service.

Southern Hills Mennonite Church

Nine days and eleven hours ago, I was getting ready for a church service that I really wasn't feeling like going to.  I could always catch up on my reading instead... Maybe I'll just get dressed and get coffee... My room could use a nice, deep cleaning... Any excuse.  At this point, I've been to seven different churches.  It is starting to get old: entering an unfamiliar place by yourself, trying to figure out what normal looks like then mimic that, feeling guilty because you don't really subscribe to the beliefs everyone in that room probably thinks you subscribe to, well, it's not the easiest thing to do...

Fortunately, nine days and 9 hours ago, I drove home from the Mennonite church, happy as a clam.  I loved it!

How did I get from point A to point B?

Well, first I will expose my ignorance.  I expected the Mennonite church to be pretty reserved and conservative.  A few years ago, some friends and I, just for our sheer amusement, decided to have a "Home School" party.  (We were pretty wild!)  We all dressed up uber-conservatively, acted really awkward, played this game called Generosity (a Christian version of Life), and tried to bring up God as much as we could.  We were definitely making fun of the archetype Home-schooled Christian, but it was okay because 3 out of the 5 of us were home-schooled. 

 

My point is, as I was getting dressed for service, choosing my outfit carefully (trying hard to dress very simply- not easy for me!), I couldn't help but be taken back to that silly party when I wore a very modest ankle-length denim skirt, plain pastel yellow shirt, Birkenstock sandals, and cross necklace.  I wondered if I needed to wear a scarf over my hair, keep jewelry to a minimum, dress like these ladies:

Upon arriving at the church, I found a parking lot full of Obama-stickered Subarus, not horse and buggies.  Sigh of relief! Once I was inside, I was happy to find that the people were dressed pretty regularly.  Not a head-covering in sight!

I made my way into the plain looking chapel (with an impressive set of instruments up front) and plunked down.  The service would be starting in just a minute.  As I noticed a woman who seemed to be noticing me, thinking "How do I know her??" another woman behind me tapped me on the shoulder, asked if I was new, and then introduced herself.  Then, something that I've been hoping wouldn't happen in any of my church visits finally happened.  "Would you mind if we introduced you to the congregation during the service?"   Sure enough, a couple minutes into the service when the minister asked if there were any visitors, this kind lady stood up and introduced me by first and last name :)  I did that awkward quickly stand up and half-heartedly wave thing.  I then saw that woman who I recognized from somewhere whisper to her husband.

Onto the actual service and message- the things that made me glad I came.  Here is what I loved about the Mennonite church I was at: the music, the friendly people, and their affirmation of values I have been emphasizing as a Christian for the last few years (peace, social justice, financial simple living, moderation, separation of church and state, to name a few).  I'll begin with the music.

I am a lover of music.  I've been in choir since 4th grade, but even before that, I sang all the time.  I'm an alto, so because of my time in high school/ college choir, I've gotten used to singing the harmony.  Though I'm no longer in any choir, I'm still very much a harmonizer.  Whether singing in my car or singing in church, it actually takes effort to sing the melody.  At my home church, where we generally have a small band upfront and the lyrics projected onto a screen for all to read (but no actual notes displayed), I, as a harmonizer, am a minority.  I have been sticking to the melodies while visiting various churches, partly because you have to know the song well enough before you can add another dimension to it, and partly because I don't want to stick out anymore than I already am.

This church was different. There were no electric guitars, no loud drums, and no power point lyrics displayed for all to see.  While many churches have modernized their approach to praise and worship, this church has stuck with hymns and acoustic instruments.  From the first note of the first hymn we sang, I realized that these Mennonites knew how to sight read, and they knew whether or not they were alto or soprano; tenor or bass, then stuck to those parts like there was a Bible verse commanding them to!  It was musical bliss.  In addition my joy that I could once again be an alto during full-congregation songs, there were a few special musical acts that were enjoyable.  Piano, harmonica, banjo, and cello were some of the instruments that were used throughout the service.   Also, Mennonites clap after someone sings or plays in front of the congregation.  I like that.  (Some churches don't think it's appropriate to clap- praise a person- during a church service, but not clapping, to me, has always feels kind of cold.)

As for the people and the message, I could tell that the people I was sitting amongst wanted to make a difference in not only heaven, but also the world we can currently see.  During prayer requests, one man stood up and announced that he knew of a 17 year-old girl in our community who was homeless.  He said that if anyone would like to consider taking her into their home for a while, they could talk to him after the service.  The fact that he would even feel comfortable presenting a request like that to the congregation, and the fact that he seemed to genuinely feel bad for her and want to help her out (instead of blaming her parents or assuming she has a drug addiction or something like that) blew me away.  They didn't want to blend in with Conservative Christians with their American (ahem, Republican) forms of Christianity, but instead knew that in order for their faith to remain pure, it could not be affected by any nation or modern culture.

They were not willing to kill anyone, period.  That decision could be left up to God.  During a prayer, the minister said, "Help us to be peacemakers planting seeds of peace throughout our lives."  She discussed the number of Afghanis and Iraquis who have been killed since September 11th.  Her sermon was titled "Extravagant Citizenship" and was about really giving yourself to something, no matter what the cost.  It seemed to me that the cause she suggested giving yourself to was more the ideals of peace, justice, and love than God.  The sermon did not really stress maintaining a relationship with Jesus or trying to win people over to God.  I think the assumption was that everyone in that room was a Christian, so why bring up faith?  Instead, they focused on using their Biblical roots to live with peace, love, and mercy on their hearts and in their hands, giving what they could to make this community, this state, this country, and hopefully, this world, better than it was the day before.

"Every person can do what they can to be a good citizen and to make the world a better place."

As the sermon came to a close, I made eye contact with that recognized lady (by this point, I had realized who she was) and we chatted for a bit.  I then saw another person I had once met (we chatted), plus two others I had only met that week!  Four people in one small congregation!  I was impressed by the odds.  It was like something was telling me that I already had a head start at a community there, in case I ever wanted to return to the faith.  As I drove home, I thought, "Wow, it's like I've been Mennonite all this time without even realizing it!" 

Although, looking back on the service, I have to wonder if it felt that good because it seemed more humanist than Christian?  An unbeliever was able to sit in the service and agree with most of the things that were said, so, if I really did decide that Christianity is what I can claim as truth, I'm not sure that I would really go to the Mennonite church.  Wouldn't I want to go to a more Bible-based church?  Maybe alternate between the Mennonite and a more Bible-based church?  Guess I can cross that bridge if I get there, but for now, Mennonite wad enjoyable.

1st Lutheran Pastor's Response!

I really appreciate the pastor at the Lutheran church for getting back to me so quickly and with such a thoughtful response. Again, the questions I'm asking the leaders of these churches when I email them are 1. about how they came to believe in God and why they keep believing in him daily and 2. about why they lead and worship in that particular church/ denomination. In my email to this pastor, I also told him that I enjoyed a part of the sermon in which he described the process of going out to eat. He even made a quick comment on tipping, saying "at least I hope you leave at least a 15 or 20% tip." Christians are notorious for bad tipping in the restaurant business! (Oh, I work as a part time server)

So, here it is:

"I'm glad that you emailed me, and that you found your worship time with us to be meaningful. I guess it was just fortuitous (or perhaps Spirit led) that some of the sermon resonated with you, especially the server part. As someone who has bused tables, washed dishes, and even cooked food (Colonel Sanders friend chicken in high school), I have a special fondness for those who work in food preparation and distribution.

I was blessed to be raised in a Lutheran/Christian home by a father who was very faithful and dedicated to Christ and the church, and a mother whose faith was not quite as strong. I enjoyed attending church services and found a home in our youth group. Early on (7th grade), I started to think about becoming a minster, and my parents and home pastor encouraged me in that direction. By the time I was in high school, I was taking language classes which would help me as I started college prep for the ordained ministry. Four years of college and four more years of seminary led to my ordination at Immanuel Lutheran Church in L____ in 1974.

Like many Christians, I have had my share of "ups and downs" in faith throughout the years. The deaths of my parents threw me for a loop, but also made me hang on more tightly to the resurrection promises of Jesus. My faith was challenged, but also comforted, by a stronger commitment to proclaim the resurrection. That's why I always end the communion meal with a blessing which speaks about the new life or resurrected life which is ours through our faith in Christ. I have had health issues to deal with for many decades. The past two years, my wife, K___, (First's Director of Education and Youth) has gone through cancer treatments and a stem cell transplant for non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Events like these have made me rely more and more on the grace of God to help me through troubled times and trials, remembering, as Jesus' promised, that he would always be with me, whatever it is I am going through.

What I value about my Lutheran/Christian faith and identity is its emphasis on the Word of God, the Scriptures, as a wonderful (though sometimes perplexing) expression of God's love and forgiveness for me. Lutherans emphasize God's grace (as I described it last night in our new member class - G.R.A.C.E. God's Riches At Christ's Expense). God's overwhelming love showered upon me, when I don't deserve it. God granting me the gift of eternity, not because of anything I have accomplished, but because of what Jesus has accomplished for me. Lutherans emphasize faith in Christ Jesus, and I deeply appreciate that.

I also appreciate the Lutheran approach to worship, with its structured liturgy which emphasizes the preaching of the Word and the sharing of the Meal (communion). And, of course, I love the music of the hymns we sing. Martin Luther said that singing hymns was like praying, and I agree. I enjoy the rich hymnody we have, because the music and the words of hymns and songs elicit strong feelings within me which nourish my faith -- challenging me where I need to change or improve, comforting me where I need to be encouraged, and commissioning me to share my faith with others.

I could probably say a lot more, but this may be more than you really wanted!! Anyway, I do hope to see you again in worship here. I will pray that God leads you to a congregation where you can grow in your faith and where you can serve Christ and his people with the gifts and talents God has given you.

Peace and love in Christ,

Pastor L___

PS Two weeks ago (September 26), instead of preaching a sermon I shared with the congregation something called "Narrative Communion Liturgy" which explained Lutheran worship. If you would like to have a copy of that to read (it's about 7 type written pages), just email me your address and I will mail you a copy to peruse."

*****

With all due respect to a man that I believe really is very Biblical and kind, what do you think of his story? I have to admire his faith and commitment to God, throughout his ups and downs, as he said. But does it point to the existence of a God or more to a faithful man who has found comfort in belief? Let's dialogue here.

1st Lutheran

Well, yesterday I was scheduled to go to a Methodist church, but as my dear old Gramma says, all plans are subject to change. Due to running late, I went to a closer church, 1st Lutheran. In a few weeks, I'm scheduled to go there, so I'll go to the Methodist church instead :)

Having a background in (well, a number of denominations, but mostly) Evangelical Christianity, I am not well-practiced in liturgical services. One thing that stood out to me about this ELCA (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) church was the structure. It was apparent that the way I was being led in worship yesterday is the way the congregation is led each Sunday. I find value in that. There's the danger that the rituals and the shared prayers will lose their meaning (you're just trying to focus on reading what you need to read, not actually thinking about it), but I think bringing the worship and the message out of the pulpit and more into the hands of the congregation is good.

Actually, I was happy to find that there was a paper in the lobby on the liturgy at 1st Lutheran! An exerpt:

"First, a word about the word 'liturgy.' 'Liturgy' is from the ancient Greek leitourgia and means 'public work' or 'the work of the people.' When the people of God gather on Sunday mornings, we gather to do 'the work of the people,' the liturgy."

You know, I graduated in May. A year ago, I had it firmly set in my mind that after graduating, I wanted to commit two years of my life toward an organization called Jesuit Volunteer Corps. JVC has four core beliefs: community (you share a living space with other volunteers, and hopefully, a friendship), spirituality (it's a Catholic organization, so church, Bible studies, and prayer are ways JVC encourages tending to its volunteers' spiritual needs), social justice (yay!), and simple living (you don't make much money at all for your services, but instead of that fact being viewed as a bad thing, JVCers see it as helping them become closer in understanding to the poor they are serving). It didn't work out (and good thing! For several reasons), but the process of applying was tedious. I wrote about 20 typed pages in answers to several questions applicants needed to address. One of those prompts said "Describe your communal prayer practices." Here's my answer (from a year ago):

[My home church] is a great church, however, like any one church, some points are hit hard on while others are missed. The idea that each of us is to have a personal relationship with Christ is preached just about every Sunday in some way or another. The idea that the church should have a communal relationship with Christ is not. Often one of the pastors will lead the congregation in prayer, but public prayers in which all the church-goers recite a prayer simultaneously rarely, if ever, are part of a church service. Whenever I’ve been to a different church that is more liturgical and have been a part of a public prayer, I have enjoyed the thought that for at least that moment, everyone in the room is united in their prayer to God, assuming that people are not just mindlessly saying the words. I have been involved in a prayer team for my missionary friend. The people in this group get together after church on the third Sunday of each month, bring a different dish, dine and converse, then get to business by sharing things that [my missionary friend] needs prayer for. Finally, with prayer requests noted, we all bow our heads and pray one person at a time. This time of group prayer is good because I get the chance to hear the ways that others converse with the Lord, join in a prayer that seems to have more weight than one that I might pray individually and silently, and know that even if my mind drifts, the prayer is being carried on, which is not the case when I’m praying on my own. I am hesitant to say that I feel God’s presence or the Holy Spirit moving within, just because I’m not completely sure, however, when I do pray in group settings, I often feel some force from God that touches me and reminds me of His attentiveness to our prayers and His power in answering them somehow. I definitely want to pray communally more.

Since JVC is a Catholic organization, I think I felt the need to praise communal worship practices highly, but what I wrote was sincere. Maybe I'll share more of my 20 page, deeply personal and spiritual application later in the blog. It's funny having reminders like that of how firmly I believed, or tried to believe.

Back to 1st Lutheran: the liturgy paper broke down the basics of any service at that church. If anyone has been to a different Lutheran church, perhaps you can chime in about whether this rings a bell. This church says the four actions that make every Sunday truly worshipful are the: gathering, word, meal, and sending.

Gathering- everyone comes to church. Confession and forgiveness, gathering song, greeting, Hymn of Praise, Prayer of the Day. Word- this part of the sermon is not just the reading of one passage, but rather 3: one Old Testament passage, one New Testament passage, and one Gospel passage. The congregation just stands when the 3rd passage is read, because the gospel has words spoken by Jesus, so it is considered more sacred. After each scripture reading, the readers says: "This is the word of God," and the congregation says, "Thanks be to God." Then the sermon, the Hymn of the Day, recitation of The Apostles Creed, the prayers of intercession (unique to individuals in the congregation's prayer needs)- again, there is a reading in the bulletin and the individuals in the pews are active in reading the prayer out loud... one person's not doing all the work while others sit silently, then the Meal. This involves taking an offering, then someone making a musical offering to prepare the hearts of the church-goers for communion (ahem, "the Eucharist"). I like what this liturgy paper says about these monetary and musical offerings that precede the Eucharist: "Our main offering, however, is really the offering of ourselves, as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, as St. Paul encourages us in Romans." Then, a congressional singing of Great Thanksgiving which ends with the famous Holy, Holy, Holy. Finally, Words of Institution, The Lord's Prayer, and the taking of the Eucharist. Then, a communion song, a post communion blessing and prayer. Then, the Sending, complete with a blessing, sending song, and dismissal "Go in peace- Thanks be to God."

So there you have it. Similar to Catholocism in the rigid structuring of the service and in the valuing of liturgy and the Eucharist, but definitely Protestant (Luther!!) Although there were a fair amount of people there, the reverend noticed me and greeted me personally. I've sent him an email. Hopefully he gets back to me.

Unitarian Universalist- Part 2

"We share no common cultural or theological background; there is no magical formula that originally awakened the spiritual consciences in all of us. Nevertheless, our testimonies all reflect a clear and common focus- a thirst for knowledge and the use of reason, inextricably linked to the necessity for authentic spiritual growth. At times these stories echo and reverberate with each other, reflecting parallel lives, but for the most part, they weave a web that transcends its universal strands. This network of experiences enriches and is enriched within the context of Unitarian Universalism."
Ervin Barrios and Julio Noboa, editors of Jornadas Espirituales Latinas (Latino/Latina Spiritual Journeys), a pamphlet my friend handed me while we were talking outside the sanctuary entrance. ( I'm interested in Latin American culture and want to become proficient in Spanish.) I smiled at the pamphlet and stuck it in my purse, only to pull it out Monday while spending about an hour in a waiting room and actually look over it. What Barrios and Noboa said about the UU emphasis on reasoning and its ties to authentic spiritual growth struck me. That emphasis on intellect and growth is one of the things I enjoyed about the UU church during my short time there.

Visit to the UU, take two:

First observation: Wow! There was a lot of diversity in age and gender. I really was unable to look at someone and say "Yeah, that looks like a typical Unitarian Universalist" because the range of types of people was large. I guess people didn't look as "meditating, artist, vegetarian type" (haha) as they did to me before (but it is quite possible that where I'm located has a lot to do with that, also possible that now I'm more that type of person- even went through a brief vegan stage- than I was at the age of 14, so I don't find that strange anymore).

Second observation: Wohoo! They used coffee mugs instead of paper cups!! They also recycle bulletins (which my home church does as well). Green consciousness! Also, the sanctuary was decorated with several paintings of nature.

Third observation: There were more people there than I expected to see, but still not a ton. I'm in the midwest. Unitarian Universalists are few and far between here. There were about 60 people (and there is an earlier service, so there are more of them- haha, "them").

Onto the service... which, in its structure, was very much like many churches I've been to.

They began with a gathering song, which I believe is the same every week. It's a traditional Navajo prayer:

Ancient Mother, I hear your calling; Ancient Mother, I hear your song.
Ancient Mother, I feel your laughter.; Ancient Mother, I taste your tears.

Welcome and announcements... then we sang "For the Beauty of the Earth," an old Protestant Hymn... Then, the lighting of the Chalice. A flaming chalice is the symbol of the UU church. As Wikipedia puts it, "There is no orthodox interpretation of the flaming chalice symbol. In one interpretation, the chalice is a symbol of religious freedom from the impositions of doctrine by a hierarchy and open to participation by all; the flame is interpreted as a memorial to those throughout history who sacrificed their lives for the cause of religious liberty." The 2 rings around the chalice represent the joining of the beliefs of Unitarian and Universalism.



Next came the children's message (one of the most impressive children's sermon's I've seen- the reverend orally told a Balinese folktale, Gecko Cannot Sleep, much in the same way it would have been told hundreds of years ago. This folktale was about the interconnectedness of every creature on earth, which tied in very well to the adult sermon)...

Then, the offering. I was happy to hear the reverend tell visitors to let the baskets pass by them.

I found the "Sharing of our Joys and Sorrows" portion of the sermon interesting. If people did not care to share with the entire congregation what they were going through, they could walk to the front of the church and light a candle in silence, sort of quietly lifting their need before the congregation.

I was most impressed with the reverend. She was extremely articulate, intelligent, warm, and well-read. People and traditions that contributed to and were alluded to in the sermon included: Ursula Goodenough (Cell biologist and writer), philosopher John Dewey, St. Francis of Assisi, Descartes, Wangari Maathai (Kenyan Nobel peace-prize winning Environmental Activist), Adam and Eve, plus the Navajo and the Balinese. It is clear to me that UU's consider no one text perfect and sacred, but rather view all religions and cosmologies with an anthropological appreciation, borrowing the "sensible" from each and using those parts to improve this world, and also to address questions about an afterlife and personal well-being, but mostly paying attention to the tidying up of our earthly selves and of the world we currently live in.

The culturally popular, postmodern belief that you should follow whichever path you feel is right, as long as you don't push it on others is one that I've made fun of for a long time and viewed with contempt. The rational part of me wants to know which one religion (if any) is true, then go with that line of thought, not waste my time studying a bunch of religions (and only on a superficial level- not actually embracing all parts of that religion [because, most likely, if you were to, you would find that they cancel each other out and cannot be embraced simultaneously]) that aren't true. Man, I'm good at writing run-on sentences! But, it seems that UU's encourage religious literacy more so than they encourage religious belief. It is okay to find holes in religions, and it's also okay to find strength in religions. There is no dogma. You don't need to adhere to any set of beliefs. It's just a place where humans from different backgrounds can enter into religious, scientific, historic, humanistic, and philosophical dialogue. It is a place that provides community to the freethinkers who don't adhere to any religion in particular as well as a place for those who lean more closely toward Buddhism, Christianity, Sikhism...

I think drawing inspiration from the countless cosmologies that have existed over time and some of the ones that exist today is great. It connects you to humanity at large. Whether the religion(s) was (were) created to answer some of the basic questions any religion addresses, but has/have mostly been "proven" false (you really can't prove any religion false because proving is part of the scientific process and faith cannot be brought into that) or the religion(s) is/are one(s) that stand(s) to reason, if you can draw joy, peace, and kindness from believing in it/them, by all means, believe. I am so obsessed with THE truth (you can blame that on my Christian upbringing or my rational nature), however, that I don't think I could embrace conflicting cosmologies as my world view. Maybe you can only "believe" in parts of all religions if you don't really believe in any of them. If you recognize them as created structures and just take the parts that have worked for people before. I think if I came back to UU (which I see as entirely possible), it would be because of the encouragement to believe what you will and contribute to the congregational dialogue.

Gahhh, this has gotten long! The sermon was actually about the sacredness of the earth and about how we need to tend it lovingly. I found it easy to recycle and not litter, but at the same time, not engage in any real environmental activism in my Evangelical Christian belief. After all, souls need to be saved and people need to be fed- those needs come first. And what good is it to clean up the earth when Christ is returning soon and God will restore the earth on his own? An attitude like that is what makes a lot of religious people not care enough about the environment. Their focus is so on the afterlife, their investment solely on the soul, that taking care of what we see right now seems to matter little in comparison. And if Christianity is true, then I can completely see that a place where souls will rest for all eternity would be a more important focal point than this place we reside in for, in comparison, the blink of an eye. But, what if what they're banking on is not going to happen? What if Jesus is not returning and there is no heaven and hell? If nothing comes after we die, we had better work on making our small lives meaningful and doing what we can to change the world for the better. Our world is, after all, the only powerful (divine?) force we can see right now, and it is our home. At one point, the reverend had us all close our eyes and picture our favorite place in nature. This was mine:





See how happy it made me? :)

How can beauty like that of Malin Head, Ireland not make me love this earth and want to improve it? Then again, many Christians would say, "How can a place that beautiful not have a Creator?"

Wrapping up... I enjoyed the UU. The acceptance of people from all backgrounds, the encouragement of curiosity, the progressive nature, the nondiscrimination... I liked it.

After I got home, my mom asked me which church I visited. I had considered making up a Christian church, just because I knew that she would be afraid for me if she knew the truth, but I just couldn't lie like that. When I said, "Unitarian Universalist," she inhaled sharply, looked away, then said, "You know, I've been praying that this church visiting thing doesn't make you stray." That broke my heart a little. I just had to force a "I'm fine, Mom. Please don't worry about me." and walk away, afraid to think about when I'll actually tell her and my father where I'm at.

Unitarian Universalist- Part 1

This Sunday, I went to a UU church in my community with a couple of friends of mine. One attends semi-regularly, but the other had not been since she was about ten, when she came for some community theater camp housed at the church. As we walked into the sanctuary, she looked up at the wooden beams over our heads and said to me, "When I was little, those seemed to be at least ten feet high! They were huge! Now, they seem pretty normal." I agreed with what she was getting at and said something like "It's weird going back to a place we haven't been since we were small. Our perspective is so much different that what we see hardly seems to match our memories."

That is exactly how I felt on Sunday.

See, technically, this was my second visit to a UU church. I went to one nine years ago when I was spending the summer in Maine with some of my favorite relatives, who have never fit my definition of Christian, though they are wonderful people. Just like my friend, I had memories of the UU church. Just like her, I've changed. The church, maybe not so much, but my perpective, absolutely.

I'm going to invite you in to my fourteen year old self's perspective... via a journal entry of this visit. Don't judge me. I'll return tomorrow with an entry from my present self about yesterday's visit. I will say that the view has changed considerably.

"Then, at 6:00, we piled in the truck and headed for night church!
*
WAIT!
*
Ok, when Gma, Aunt B___, and I found out about the M____s going 2 church [It's killing me to type this the way I wrote it- abbreviations, spelling errors, and all!], we were So happy! But, keep listening...
*
On the way to 'church,' Ba___ looked @ me and asked, 'Now Tricia [that's my name], have you ever been to a UU church?'
'No.'
'OK, well it's a Unitarian Univeral Church. We used to meet in the Belfast library, but we now meet in a new building.'
'Ok...'
'Tonight, the subject is art. It's only a half hour long and then there's a potluck.'

So, I figured that's cool. A nice summer service, right?

Well, we got there and there's like 18 people (max) sitting in a church (with reg. chairs) listening to 'What a Wonderful World!' That wasn't bad. Then this short haired lady started talking about different forms of art. She talked about how God worked through her and made her draw/paint what she drawed/painted [did I seriously just use the 'word' drawed?!?!!]. I know it doesn't sound that wierd but it was almost like one of those poetry reading things! They didn't say any scriptures or even use the bible or talk about Jesus! And when they sang songs, nobody played the piano, just a lady playing a RECORDER! Not flute, recorder! [Okay, that is lame...] I felt bad the whole time because I was really hoping they would draw near to God! I'll try 2 help them with that! Oh, and @ the potluck, there was NO meat! They had marinated tofu, salad, pasta, rice, but NO MEAT. They all looked kinda funny (I know that's judgmental), but they looked like the meditating, artist, vegetarian type! I TOTALLY didn't see how 2 Lawyers and their kids [my relatives I went with] fit in!"

That's me almost ten years ago. Tune in next time to hear my thoughts now.

ps. Today, I was working in a school and saw a 4th grader whip out a journal. I asked her about it and encouraged her to continue to write in it often. I said, "you'll really love reading it when you're older." I had this entry in mind...

I didn't make it to the church I promised I'd go to- for the second week in a row! Doh! Woke up this morning with swollen glands and a headache, and mustering up the energy to go to a church where I would be a clear outsider didn't seem doable. I'm postponing the visit to Church of God of Prophecy to December 5th.

That may seem funny, but I actually have all of the churches I'm going to written in my planner and I don't want the whole chain to derail because I played hookie one Sunday. When I came up with this idea, I wanted to make sure I would be exposed to a theologically, economically, politically wide range of churches, so I carefully picked churches that I found different enough to visit.

Here's the schedule. I'm going to stick to it!!

9/26- Unitarian Universalist (Yeah, I know this isn't a Christian church, but I'm interested.)
10/03- United Methodist
10/10- Bread of Life Foresquare
10/17- Southern Hills Mennonite Church
10/24- First Lutheran Church (ELCA!)
10/31- Church of the Nazarene
11/07- I'll be in Malibu for a family wedding :)
11/14- Grace Episcopal
11/21- Seventh Day Adventist
11/28- Driving home from Thanksgiving with family and a friend :)
12/05- Church of God of Prophecy

I can't believe this is bleeding into December. I planned on just visiting 10 churches in this stint, but, obviously, the number has grown.

Also, I have been emailing pastors and asking for their personal testimonies as to why they believe in God and why they chose the church they're at. Out of the four churches I've visited so far, I've only heard back from one. I'll continue to email pastors and I really am interested in their answers, but I hope that the odds of responding improve. I'm very interested, lately, in where people are at spiritually and why. If you, dear reader, have time and feel brave, I would even be curious about your story. Christian, atheist, unsure, Buddhist, apathetic- whatever it is, I'm curious. My blogger stats tells me that this blog has been viewed by people in the US (obvio), Canada, and even Denmark! Oh, the internet! If you'd like to go from anonymous to visible, and care to share where you're at, feel free.

Antioch Missionary Baptist Church

Whoa! A little late on the posting... my best friend got married this week, so there's my excuse.

Last Sunday was a blast! Before the service when I was getting ready, I was getting a little nervous. You see, Antioch is a black church. Of course, it's not like the bulletin or the website says anything to indicate that, and obviously anyone who wants to come can come, but Antioch is one of the many, many churches that reflect the nature of Sunday morning segregation, just not from a side I'm not as used to...

In spite of my nerves, I drove my white self wearing my white dress in my little white car (haha- unintentional) to the north-eastern lower income neighborhood in my city that houses Antioch. From the minute I walked in, I was heartily greeted by several people. A woman who worked for the church set me up with a bag of church goodies and had my filling out a card (which I don't like to do, but she really didn't give me a choice!) and asked about me. She was very friendly.

Oh man! At the beginning of the service, the pastor welcomed visitors and asked us all to stand up. I thought "Oh noooo! Really? Really?" and reluctantly stood, but was so happily surprised by what came next. Suddenly, after a piano's 5 note cue, the entire congregation burst out in a gospel-style welcome song. It was perfect. There was so much rhythm in that song that I felt like dancing, but I thought that would make me feel even more white.

Last summer, I worked at a Children's Defense Fund Freedom School , which is pretty Afro-Centric. At the national training all the employees went to before the freedom school began, I was one of about 40 white people in a group of 2,000 trainees. Being a minority is not new to me. Anyway, I worked with a lot of adults and children who attended Antioch, so I expected to see some at the service. I did recognize a few, but not as many as I hoped I would see.

A little bit more about working with black Christians at Freedom School... I observed that the black church (as a generalization) puts more of an emphasis on social justice, poverty alleviation, universal health care than individual purity and piety. It seemed to me that my church focused more on saving people's souls than their earthly selves, while the black churches focused more on the opposite (but still both). Ooooh Wikipedia confirms: "When compared to American churches as a whole, black churches tend to focus more on social issues such as poverty, gang violence, drug use, prison ministries and racism. A study found that black Christians were more likely to have heard about health care reform from their pastors than were white Christians." I didn't hear much about needing to have quiet times daily or maintain a personal relationship with Jesus, but I had no doubt that my coworkers believed in God. They sprinkled his name in conversation unashamedly, but sometimes their lives didn't reflect what I had been taught about good Christians. Like I said, that is just my experience with black Christians and of course every individual is different. There are so many things both groups need to learn from each other. By the way, I love people of every ethnicity! Hope you can tell. Geez, why does discussing race make people so nervous?

Onto the service... praise and worship + greetings + communion= an hour! I'm used to an hour and 15 minute long church services, so I got a little worried when I realized an hour had gone by and we hadn't even started the sermon. But, I'm happy to say, the singing was super fun! Very stereotypical black church- choir dressed in nice black and white clothes (in fact, let me take this opportunity to say that, yes, everyone was dressed up- moreso than in other churches I've been to! I did see a few great hats!), amazing 6 part harmonies, clapping, swaying, lots of hallelujahs and amens. I would return to this church for the singing and the people.

The taking of the offering was, uh, different. First of all, I was handed collection envelopes before the service by two different people (I don't like the idea of visitors having to tithe... ). Secondly, there were really overt things about giving stated before the offering was taken, such as "I don't know why we think it's okay to put so much money into our flat screens and cars, but not give to church" and the choir singing a spirited song called "Blessings Running Over" containing the lyric: If you give to the Lord, He will give you more. Now I've seen this pastor outside of church. He drives a NICE,new car. He wears plenty of bling. Nice clothes. The way he pushes giving, I just don't know where his motives lie.

Once it was time for the offering to be collected, ushers didn't come to us; we came to them! When suit-laden ushers stood by a row, the people in that row had to procession on out of their pew and up to the front of the church where the offerings were being collected. I couldn't believe how much pressure this put on members (and visitors!) to give!! Everyone watching. Everyone having to go up to that collection plate. Wow! When it came my row's turn to give, I had no choice but to quickly grab one of my empty envelopes, walk to the front, shake 5 guys' hands (I forgot to mention that part), then put my $0 contribution in the plate. I didn't feel good about the sneakiness, but I was not about to go up there empty-handed.

Communion was also noteworthy, just because of the fact that these crazy all-in-one communion cups were used. The top layer of pink celophaney paper read: And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me." - Luke 22:19. Once you peeled that off, there was a thin wafer. Under the wafer, another piece of wrap paper, then the grape juice. Though these fun-size eucharist samplers seemed blatantly cheesy to me, the pastor took them very seriously; blessing them before they were passed out behind the cover of a held-up white sheet. I think a Catholic would have had a coronary.
The sermon was on Isaiah 53:5, or "the suffering servant" and it was actually given by a guest preacher. "If we're going to be like Him, we must be willing to suffer." "He was bruised for our iniquities. He didn't have non of his own." The material wasn't new, but I did think about the nature of suffering in a Christian perspective- or maybe outside a Christian perspective. I like, right now, not feeling like I need to suffer. I remember reading passages on suffering and feeling guilty for being too liked by my non-Christian friends, guilty for being too wealthy in comparison to people in poorer parts of the world, guilty for not being persecuted. It is comforting to believe in a savior who suffered, especially for people who are going through suffering and can give him their burdens. But to feel like you need to suffer? Especially if it's for nothing? But Christians feel it's worth what Jesus did for us, and if it's true that he did save us and whatnot, then, yes, it would be worth it. "He took our whooping- the whooping we deserved. He took it for us."

Lastly, the thing that I HAVE to report on! This guest pastor, on a couple of occasions, went from talking (preaching) to singing... seamlessly. It so reminded me of the recurring SNL skit "What Up With That?" when the host of this show tries to talk and carry on with the show, but just can't help but break out into improvised song... Seriously, seriously made me laugh to myself because it was so much like that!


Two hours after arriving, I was exiting the aisle, saying goodbye to the nice people I met when the guest pastor came quickly towards me, embraced me in a full on hug, and said, "Hi sweetie!! So glad you could join us! See you next week?" Haha! I would, just for the music and the good atmosphere. But "next week" - or tomorrow- I'm going Episcopalian. Tune in for the next installment.

Good Antioch quote to end on: "With this material, I could be very lengthy... but you can help me along with your Amens!"

Focaccia, pears, and the Congregational Church

Sunday's visit was to Central Congregational Church. Now... I have a small history with the Congregational church (also called the United Church of Christ). My great-grandmother attended a Congregational church in Waterville, Maine. I spent my childhood and teen summers in Waterville and although my Nana died when I was 3, my grandmother and I attended the CC Nana had attended when she was alive. The first Sunday of one if my Maine summers, my grandma and I got dressed up, got into her red minivan, and she shuttled me not to the CC, but to Pleasant Street Methodist Church. When I asked her why she made this switch, she said, "Oh, they started calling God a 'she' and I knew it was time to go." If she wanted a solidly patriarchal view of God, she should have switched to Baptist, but, that's besides the point.

I also have a very small history with the particular church I attended. Saturday morning, I rode my bike to the Farmer's Market to check out the end of the summer produce, crafts, and baked goods. As I passed each booth, checked out prices of corn, eyed the home-made jewelry, and scanned the crowd for people I potentially knew, I noticed that Central Congregational had a booth! So I made my way into their tent, picked a jalepeno focaccia, and as I paid, told the woman taking my cash that I was planning on attending their church the next day. "Oh wonderful!" she said. "Hey Sharon, did you hear this girl? She's coming to Central tomorrow!" Suddenly I was meeting the women of the Central Congregational Farmer's Market committee and they were making me promise to say hello to them when I came to their church. When I finally got out of the Central CC tent, focaccia in hand, I had to smile at their friendliness.

The slogan that the Congregational Church most uses to summarize its beliefs is: God is still speaking, (the comma being important, signifying that God is not done shedding light on us humans and that we can't claim to know it all, because the knowledge is still being imparted). A phrase that Central CC also uses is: Unapologetically Chrisitan, Unapologetically Progressive. Both of these point to the evolving, ever-changing, dynamic way that Congregationalists see God's work in the world and read his Word. Most of the people at the church I've been attending for years would point to Congregationalists' view of scripture and their take on issues like female leadership, homosexuality, the nature of God, and politics as liberal and heretical, to be frank. People with my church background might accuse them of shaping their theology around culture instead of holding steadfast to the "Truth" in spite of its unpopularity.

It feels good to be on the outside of that, simply viewing Congregationalists as Christians with different viewpoints (though, to be honest, I never felt certain of a lot of the issues on which some Christians take definitive stances). I've always had an especially hard time swallowing the idea that women shouldn't be pastors or leaders of men. The idea that something that is a very part of someone's identity, something she can't control (and shouldn't feel like she needs to) could be sinful. The idea that a loving God would cast people into an eternal hell. Etcetera. If I found there to be truth in the loving god part of Christianity, but could do away with those parts of the religion that my heart tells me are wrong, I would go to a more liberal, progressive church like a Congregational one. What's kept me from doing that in the past is the belief that the Bible really does teach that homosexuality is a sin, that those who are not saved will perish, that women should submit to their husbands. I felt the need to believe the Bible is without error for, if it had flaws, what kind of a god wouldn't intervene and keep his followers from believing lies?
Wow, I've gotten off track!

Central Congregational!

First thing I noticed: there were SO MANY WOMEN! Seriously, a 5:1 woman:man ratio. Maybe guys like being thought of as the rightful leaders. Or maybe it was just this church. There's already more women than men in most churches, but this was very, very noticeable.

Second thing I noticed: Everyone was super, super friendly. I obviously stuck out because people came to me before the service to greet me, introduce themselves, and ask what brought me there. They were very sweet.

We began the way most churches to: with some singing of hymns, a few scripture readings, and time for greetings. During the longer than what I thought was usual mingling time (though it probably felt long because I was all alone), people who hadn't had a chance to say hi before church started found me and introduced themselves. One adorable old codger named Dean even hugged me, held onto me, and all but made me promise to join the church after the service for coffee and treats. After the mingling, we got back to more singing, then the floor was open for people to share prayer requests and praises. This lasted for a while. When the pastor prayed for all of these requests, she also prayed for each and every person on the prayer bulletin (just said their name)- about 70 people!

Next came the sermon, "Harvest Time," a discussion of Matthew 9:35-38 ("The harvest is plenty, but the workers are few").

To be more specific:

³⁵Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. ³⁶When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. ³⁷Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. ³⁸Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field."

Instead of pounding the congregation over the head with a guilt-tripping message of the importance and urgency of evangelism, she looked at the passage in a light I never had. She emphasized the nurturing, loving, comforting parts of Jesus, not the part of Him that makes people evangelize. She read through Psalm 23 ("The Lord is my shepherd...") a few times. The sermon had a very warming affect. It made me wish that I believed in that kind of a God.

Something the pastor said, which I think explains the warm/fuzziness of the Congregational beliefs that God's love triumphs over his righteousness and accepts all people for just what they are:

"I believe God cares for me, I believe God cares for you, I believe God cares for everyone."

Oh, after the service, I did join Dean, Sharon, and the gang for coffee and treats. I stuck around for about 15 minutes and was treated so well. Someone made me take a bag full of home-grown pears on my way out. I have to say that this visit has been my favorite so far!

I'll post the pastor's response to my questions soon. Next week, Antioch Missionary Baptist Church, where I will most likely be the only white person in the congregation :)

Father's response

Yay! I got a response to the email I sent to the Catholic Priest. I asked him for a personal testimony: both why he is Christian and why Catholic...

"Thanks for your email. I'm glad that you came to visit our parish. We gather on Sunday, the day of Jesus' resurrection from the dead, to worship God and give thanks to God.

I became a Christian through baptism as a baby. As Catholic Christians we emphasize that it is God who first chooses us. St. John says that it is not we who first love God but God who first loves us. St. Peter tells us "baptism saves you now." (1 Pet 3:20) Through the waters of baptism our sin is washed away and we are born again into God's family. Jesus tells us you must be born again by water and Holy Spirit to enter the Kingdom of Heaven (John 3)

God then wants our response to the gift of salvation given to us in baptism. Through prayer, the sacramental life, and works of charity we cooperate with God's grace and allow it to bear fruit in our lives.

Faith is a gift - it is like a muscle. The more we practice and exercise it the stronger it will grow. I take time each day to pray - to enter into conversation with God. I offer each day up to God and ask for his guidance and blessings on my day.

Why Catholicism? We can trace our roots back to Christ himself. The bishops of the Catholic Church can trace apostolic succession (the laying on of hands) back to the apostles of Jesus. Another big reason I'm Catholic is the Eucharist or Holy Communion. Jesus says, "My flesh is real food and my blood is true drink." (John 6) As Catholics we can accept Christ into our lives every day of the year through Holy Communion at Mass. We have a living encounter with our Savior.

I forwarded your e-mail also to Fr. Shawn who is the other priest at our parish. Either one of us will be happy to meet with you. We also offer classes on Wednesday night from 7 - 8:30 pm on the Catholic Faith. They begin Sept. 8th. You are welcome to come simply as an inquirer to learn more about what we believe as Catholics.

Thank you for being open to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. I will pray for you and please don't hesitate to e-mail of call if you have questions or ever want to meet. May God bless you,

Fr. Brian"

He sounded very nice and I'm glad he took the time to reply. I'm really grateful that there are people like Fr. Brian who will respond to my questions and give me insight as to why people believe, and not just believe, but actually believe strongly enough to make a profession out of their faith.

Why he became a Christian- because his parents baptized him... so not a conscious choice. God chose Him... I know that Catholics believe much more strongly in the power of baptism than many protestants. In my upbringing, baptizing has been thought of as a way that a believer can profess her belief to others. The idea that parents choosing to sprinkle their babies with water can keep those babies from going to hell, basically doing all of the work for the babies (and since I used that word 'work,' the idea that we can do something to earn our way to heaven- something other than just believing) - well, it doesn't add up.

Why he's Catholic- because it's most like Jesus? Uh? Next point, because of the Eucharist of Communion. Okay, I can see that. If you really thought that that was communion with Jesus- his true blood and body- yeah, I could see why you'd want that more often and would go with Catholicism.

Getting back to his reasons for belief in both the religion and the denomination, is being born into a religious family really enough to make one believe in something so strongly that he would give up the chance of getting married (and it's guys we're talking about- the chance to have sex!) because of it? That's one of my biggest hang-ups about Catholicism. The fact that priests can't get their sexual needs met, which causes a disproportionately high number of them to abuse children.

Anyway, some answers from the priest. Excellent. I thought it was nice of him to invite me to learn more... but I won't be. I must move on in my sojourn.

Mater Dei Catholic Church

Again, an interesting Sunday morning...

I attended Mater Dei Catholic Church today. Unlike many people who have been raised in the Protestant tradition, I have never found Catholics to be wrong in their interpretation of the Bible. I really hate the chasm that lies between Catholics and Protestants. My Dad was raised Catholic and although he attends a nondenominational Protestant church, he is still very loyal to his Catholic roots. Perhaps this is part of why I've always been pretty open to Catholicism.

Even with entering the beautiful sanctuary with an open mind, I knew from the entrance that this service would be much different than what I'm used to (and especially different than last week!) I did not want to look as out of place as I felt, so I attempted to fit in. The couple heading into the church in front of me stopped by the front door, dipped their fingers in a cup of water, and did the sign of the cross. I did the same, feeling very phony, but trying to really experience the Catholic service in all its senses. After doing this routine, I quickly made my way to an empty pew and plunked down. I didn't realize until I sat down and was observing others that everyone else was kneeling by the pew for half a second, rising, then making their way to their seats. I asked my dad later about this and he said it's called genuflection and is an act of reverence. I had to laugh later on in the service when a family was running about 20 minutes late. They rushed down the aisle, then each had to genuflect quickly before sitting down.

In most churches I've been to, the minutes preceding the service are filled with chatter, greetings, smiles, laughter, church-friendly gossip... here, it was dead quiet. Some people were kneeling and praying, others were just sitting quietly, some were smiling at others and waving, even mouthing things like "How are you?," like they wished they went to a noisier church where pre-service speaking was acceptable. It's clear that the Catholics take time in the House of God seriously and approach His presence with reverence and awe.

The service began with a Prayer to Mary, which the pastor said was in the back of one of the books in the pew (I can't believe I didn't take down the name! It was like a hymnal in that it contained all of the songs we sang, but more than that, it had each of the 52 Sundays' scheduled readings, prayers, and more... I'll refer to it henceforth [yes, I did just use that word] as the Program Book, because that's what it was like.) It provided each word the priest would pray, each response we were expected to say, the songs we sang, directions on when to sit, kneel, or stand, etc. To get back to Mary's prayer, I could not for the life of my find it in the back of the PB, but after a while of searching frustratingly, I just listened to the prayer. At the end of this prayer, a woman 2 rows behind me said "It's on the back of the book!" I was looking in the book... and I'd been caught. Catholic newbie, right here.

Last week, I was able to jot down notes, catch crazy quotes, and reflect on the service. This Sunday, my time was so filled with trying to keep up with what everyone else was doing that I didn't write much down. Whether it was searching frantically for the page in the PB that told the congregation (and the pastor) what to say; standing up, sitting down, or kneeling; or flipping to the hymn we were about to sing, I was kept busy! The Catholic church is so filled with tradition and rituals that, for an outsider, it's hard to follow along.

Notes:

Everything really is quite scripted. In some ways, this is nice. It's beautiful to think that every Catholic church in the world is reading the same scripture that morning and praying the same prayers. What a picture of unity. If LOTW was more scripted and less "led by the Spirit," the sermon may have made some sense. At the same time, this standardization takes away from clergy being able to excitedly share what they have been reading on their own time. Pastors have little ability to shape the message they have to deliver. Hierarchy in the church is a strange idea for me, but of course this is required in the unity the Catholic Church has achieved.

Communion takes place each Sunday. Of course, Catholics believe that the wafer and the wine (wine, not grape juice!) become the real blood and body of Jesus. They take communion very seriously. I didn't realize that I wasn't supposed to take communion since I'm not really Catholic (my dad told me this later), but I think if I'd have sat it out, I would have been more noticeable than I already was. As I got closer in line to the front where the pastor and some assistants were, I made mental notes: 'bow before putting your hands out... right hand over left hand... nod after the priest says whatever he says up there... drink out of the same cup as everyone else- not a big gulp!' And then, as quickly as ever, I had successfully partaken in the body and blood of Christ and was back in my seat, kneeling. Okay, didn't know I was supposed to kneel, but I'll go with it.

There is a much more serious feel in the Catholic church than in other churches I've been to. Although the pastor did crack a pastor joke! The worship music is not performed by a band upfront, but rather (at this church) by a single soprano voice and an organ. The pastor is not wearing khakis and a polo, he is wearing a robe. There were 3 children whose sole job during the entire service was to assist the pastor, sometimes by lighting candles, sometimes by getting things for him, sometimes by even holding the huge Bible he was reading from for him, like small human desks or note holders. And of course the children were wearing long white robes. It was all very churchy. I think a lot of churches have made efforts to do away with anything churchy, but definitely not the Catholic church.

The service was only about 50 minutes! After I left, the lady who assisted me early on in the service asked me if this was my first visit to Mater Dei. Caught! I nodded and smiled. She said, "Well we'd love to have you back!" which I thought was nice. That was my Catholic Sunday! Next week, Congregationalist!

ps. I cannot find an email address for the pastor and am deciding about whether or not I should phone him. I haven't yet heard back from LOTW clergy and don't really want to send another email...

Light of the World

My first stop was definitely interesting. And uncomfortable. Both things I was looking for when I decided to do this.

The first thing that struck me about this church was how much of an effort the greeter at the front door made to make me feel welcome. I saw him when I was a good 50 yards away from the door and he was already smiling at me and waving. I'm sure his intentions were good, but it made it a little awkward. Once we shook hands and completed the long greeting, I made it into the sanctuary. I was struck by how dark it was (there were no windows?) and the absence of a cross. In every church I remember going to, there has been a cross prominently displayed at the front of the sanctuary, but not here. Strange.

Anyway, I was a little early, so I sat down and watched people trickle in. It was a weird thing to not have my usual group of people with whom I could sit and chat to before the service. I observed the groups of people: the families, the young married couples, the few righteous young men, the misfits. I was impressed with the amount of black people. It's a sad thing that Sunday mornings are the most segregated time of the week, but it's true. The church I've attended for the past 8 years has a very small handful of black people, which is sad to me. This congregation was about 1/5 or 1/6 black. The fact that that ration impressed me is sad, because it's still small, but it was more than I expected to see.

So, the service began with singing. Even though I don't know if I believe right now that there is a God who hears our praises, I sang the songs anyway. I've always loved to sing, plus I don't want to stick out too much. After each song, the worship band and some of the congregation would break out into what I think was maybe supposed to be speaking in tongues. To me, it just sounded like mumbling. It would only last for about 5 or 10 seconds at the end of each song and would be interspersed with "Alleluia" and "Praise you Jesus" and "Amen" and such. I just observed, trying not to look too wide-eyed. I noticed the people who weren't "speaking in tongues." They looked sort of uncomfortable, embarrassed, and maybe guilty. I can imagine that if I was attending a church where that was considered normal, and if I wasn't feeling the Holy Spirit prompting me to do that, I would feel bad and weird. I guess when I was a solid Christian, I was pretty open to the idea of pentecostal practices of faith: healing, speaking in tongues, worshipping in whatever way you needed to (falling to your knees, lifting your hands, whatever it took to make you feel closer to God), so I wasn't too taken aback with anything. It's just that now, from a kind of agnostic point of view, the speaking in tongues seemed to be phony, the lifting of hands was compulsory (the preacher even at one point told everyone to lift their hands... more on that.) and it all seemed to be part of a competition to look the holiest, or to fit into the definition of what constituted a good, holy person at this church.



Onto the sermon. The preacher was a little bit televangelist-y with his light gray suit and southern accent. I wouldn't have counted that against him, I just thought it was amusingly stereotypical. His preaching was ALL over the place. I couldn't follow his line of thought at all. After a long rampage on the evils of living wordly (smoking cigars, drinking alcohol, playing poker were actual examples used), he apologized for how chopped up his sermon had been, but not really: "I don't mean to get off on some of these things, but I'm following the Holy Ghost." Wow, blaming bad speaking skills on the Holy Spirit moving inside of him... I wouldn't be so cynical, but from my time as a Christian, I felt pretty positively sure that God isn't fighting against alcohol or poker or cigars the way that this guy seemed to think He was, so I couldn't trust that his message had any validation, so it was not from the Holy Spirit.

I was shocked and upset about the number of times that televangelist preacher put down other churches. I believe he made about 6 comments that implied that Light of the World was the best church around and that churches that didn't support speaking in tongues, healing, and other offbeat charismatic practices were heretical. The closed mindedness and certainty that their interpretation of the Bible was the only right interpretation was very bad.

Some quotes from the service that I jotted down:

"God doesn't want us to have long faces"- um, I thought that God delighted in a contrite heart and broken spirit? There's a lot to be honestly sad about, a lot to be broken about...

During the worship: "Make your arms like a funnel and draw in the presence of the Lord... if you need healing, let Him in. If you need financial miracles, ask Him for that." So if I don't put my hands in the air, God can't move into me? And financial miracles? Now you're sounding like Joel Osteen with his name it and claim it crap.

"A lot of churches don't know about the power of God and stuff." Well put.

"There are churches that have the spirit of the world in them more than the spirit of faith in them, and you have to be careful if you get too close to those churches."

"If you're wondering 'Can I look like the world, talk like the world, be like the world, and still be tight with Jesus?' the answer's 'No'." The Christian aversion to worldly things makes many of the hardcore, out in left field, true Bible-believing Christians bad politicians, bad teachers, bad writers... bad at giving back to the world in tangible ways because they're too caught up in another world. I'm seeing this from another side now.

"I don't want to go to a cool church- I want one that's on fire!"

"I've found that if a 6 year old can't do it, then it's not good for adults either." Um, what about sex?

My favorite (on the evils of drinking): "You're looking for a buzz and you're supposed to get your buzz from the Holy Ghost!" So, God's going to make me feel intoxicated and incoherent? Why would a God of wisdom and discernment do that?

So, that was Light of the World. A bit cooky, a bit intolerant of different walks of even Christian faith, often made me squirm in my seat. Definitely a kick-start to this journey.

(I didn't ask the preacher those questions I originally talked about because the service was about 2 hours long and I had to run... I may send an email.)

ICHE

That's right: ICHE, or Intentional Church Hopping Experience. This is something I thought of and planned out last summer, but didn't get around to. Basically, I will be going to a different, carefully chosen because of its uniqueness, church each week and making note of the music, the order of the service, interesting notes, and any conversations I have with the members or clergy. I also want to contact clergy members (in person or through email) and get their testimony and what they think are the hallmarks of their church, the things that make them unique from other churches and denominations.

Now is a good time to do this because it will be good to get a view of the Christian church as a whole, not just the part that I'm familiar with (a nondenominational Bible church), but also the corners of Christianity I've only heard about. I want to understand better the ways that different people perceive God and the Bible. (I know that right now I'm not really believing in anything, but I can't help but capitalize those words.) I'm also excited about conversing with clergy members- people who are so serious about their faith they've made it their career (or were serious in the past)- and find out why they started believing in God and why they still do. Honestly, another reason I'm doing it is to avoid my church for a while. It's been hard to go there (I can't not or my friends would be onto me), but this gives me an excuse to be away.

I'm about to leave for my first church, a big church in my community called Light of the World. It is nondenominational, but from what I hear from others and from the website, I know that it is more charasmatic than what I'm used to, and that there will be speaking in tongues.... I'm kind of nervous, but I think it should be interesting and a good start to my project. I'll be back with more details.