Today was the most entertaining adventure yet. God has a sense of humor, I have no doubt. Before I plunge into the long (but worth it!) account of this day's happenings I must first share this week's events. On Wednesday, a woman from Burke United Methodist came to my house bearing bread. She was incredibly friendly and didn't preach or wave that candle in my face. She simply said hello and that they were so glad we visited, and left me with bread and some papers. The papers were just more information about the church. The bread, however, must have been made from holy water. It was divine. I would have eaten the entire loaf if ravenous beast JacksonTaylorZack hadn't come into the kitchen. Then on Saturday my mom handed me a letter that came in the mail from that same 'ol church saying something along the lines of, "Look, more from your new friends." It basically said the same thing as the papers the woman had given me. I am now concerned that an entire rainforest will be cut down before I cease to hear from these people. Rachel also received a letter, although no one brought her bread. My theory is that the people behind me DID see "frightening" scrawled in my notebook and passed on the message that the tall, fidgety one was going to need a hell of a lot of work. Though perhaps not in those exact words. Before we move on, I must confess I do feel slightly guilty about being so harsh on Robe Man and his followers. They seem very content with their rituals; I am happy for them as long as I don't ever have to participate. While eating the delicious bread I realized I did respect their ways. I could feel my mind expanding as I chewed. Although...the bread did have an awful lot of poppy seeds.
This morning, armed with Starbucks coffee, we set out for New Life Christian Church. http://www.newlife4me.com/new-here/ Please follow this link before continuing to read; by doing so you can understand what is about to aspire. That hilarious website is the reason we chose New Life. I was beyond impressed with the website and never have I been so excited to attend a church. This one couldn't wait.
As we headed to Where The Rich Things Are, aka Mclean, I sipped (ok gulped) my coffee and was constantly reassured by Rachel of her driving skills with statements such as, "DUDE! If we make it there alive I'm gonna be so impressed," and, "Hey look, there goes our exit!" And as she somehow makes it anyway, "Weeee I'm a crazy driver." Thank you Starbucks for your trusty lids, you saved me from a caramel macchiato tsunami.
After about half on hour of this calm driving, Lucy and Ethel suddenly realize they must be close to the destination. "Dude, what's this place called again?" Rachel asks. I have no idea. Throughout the week when people would inquire where we were going next I would say I couldn't remember the name, but it had an amazing website. When asked what kind of church it was, my response was, "Uhm, a cool one." Apparently this went for Rachel as well. We weren’t concerned - the address was in the GPS; we'd find out when we got there.
You would think with a GPS we would never have issues finding our way or figuring out where we were. HA. That think is wrong, is all I'll say. The GPS showed a checkered flag somewhere on the road we were currently on and suddenly we saw a church. "Is that it?!" Rachel asked. "The flag thing seems to say so, quick pull up the drive!" I said. She used more of her mad last-minute decision driving skills and in we went. The building was nice, although I had imagined something much funkier. Everyone was in very dressy clothes. This didn't cue us in that something was wrong. After all, Burke Methodist had seemed contemporary and almost new age according to advertisements, and that was proven otherwise. We peeked into a few rooms and had no idea where to go. There was a group of young people in the foyer; in fact these were the only people we ever saw there. Rachel went up to a girl and said, "Excuse me, Hi, uhm, where do we go?" The girl looked at us blankly. "For what?" She finally said. This was strange. We told her we were looking for the service, and when she gave us another baffled look we briefly explained our church exploration project. By now most of the group was listening. We told them their website was so funny, and that's why we came. This got us a round of confused stares taken to a whole new level. The girl informed us that the 11AM service was the Spanish one. Now it was our turn to be confused.
The thought that we were in the wrong place was beginning to float around in my noggin. I like to think I missed the obvious because I was keeping my mind completely open, and this is why I didn't think much about the things that should have cued me in. For example, the guys were all REALLY good looking, and everyone was abnormally friendly. Also, I overheard some blond informing someone, "Oh my sister's boyfriend broke his nose when he was 19! So he was of course on his mission." I thought, "Mission…hey, I have a Mormon boyfriend too!"
As these things were dancing around my brain but not quite settling yet, an adorable child about 3 years old marched up to us and jabbed Rachel's coffee cup with his finger. (Mine was long gone.) "What's that?" he asked. "The nectar of life," I replied in my preferred humor voice - monotone without expression; dry. Rachel laughed, nobody else did. Yet another hint I failed to notice. "Coffee's bad for your body!" the child exclaimed. "It keeps my body running," my big mouth continued (why why why?) Again, nobody laughed nor cracked even a smile. The squirt, who I was growing less fond of every moment, frowned. "Only some kind of teas are okay," he scolded me. I wouldn't realize until later that he was only saying what everyone else there was probably thinking.
Once the shock from our waltzing in wore off, these people became ridiculously helpful and friendly. We were introduced to several elders, who all looked about 18 or 19. No, this didn't clue me in yet either. We were told that another campus existed not too far; the girl even offered to drive there and let us follow her. As she was getting her keys, an "elder" guy (super hot younger guy) began to talk to us. It was as he was standing there, launching into a sermon on their beliefs and ministry, that it FINALLY clicked. I noticed the nametag on his hot "elder" body. I never saw his name, because what was underneath jumped out: "Jesus Christ Church of the Latter Day Saints." Of course he choose that moment to pause his "Why you should join us RIGHT NOW" lecture to ask with a smile, "So do you guys have any friends that are Mormon?" This was the moment the light bulb went ding for Rachel; the ripples of her shockwave almost knocked me over. "My boyfriends Mormon, actually," I answered. "Oh and does he always talk to you about joining our church?" he inquired. "No we pretty much leave that stuff alone, we just kinda respect each others beliefs...yeah," I said. This made him frown deeply. The girl then returned with her keys, and we told her never mind don't worry about it, but thank you so much for offering. They told us to come back at one. We smiled, waved, and kept walking. "Just smile and wave boys, smile and wave."
As we strode to the car I said a few "Oh my goshs" and then brilliantly, "That was the wrong church." Rachel nodded, and said something along the lines of "Dude, those people are so friendly!" They really are. "So now what?" Rachel asked. "We should at least find the intended church," I figured. Suddenly I LOL'd out loud. "RACHEL! I told a group of Mormons that coffee was the nectar of life!" We would return to this amusing notion many times the rest of the morning, me groaning, "I can't believe I said that, of all the places," and Rachel cheerfully responding, "I'm so glad you did!"
The New Life building was just down the road - a colorful bubble-lettered sign announced it. The building was a red A-framed structure resembling a mutated barn. I got my funky after all. As Rachel said, the only bad thing about New Life was we couldn't locate the door at first. Once we got in we found the sanctuary much easier. We took our seats and I looked around at the people. It was not large. I'm terrible at estimating, but let’s go with 20 or 40. The song, "Me and My Gang," by Rascal Flatts popped into my head and hasn't left. Look it up. It's about a diverse group being one big family and having a good time. This church had hippies; I honestly saw one give the other a peace sign. It had old biker dudes who don't realize they're old and have those wives with suspiciously poofy hair. Guys in flannel and cool belts around their blue jeans. An old Korean woman wearing pearls. The list goes on. "Come as you are," is the phrase that leaps into my mind. Oh, and they had coffee. It may be just me, but I seem to recall the light from the window shining down on it, lighting up the glorious table and making the carafes sparkle.
We missed the worship; the sermon began right after we sat down. The program referred to the pastor as "The Funny Guy." I wasn't sure about this. I have a strong distaste for comedy acts. Its the whole "acts" thing that gets me. It's just a show. A perfect example is Joey Gladstone from Full House. That man disgusts me. But I guess I shouldn't be so judgmental - baby Mary Kate and Ashley thought he was funny. I suppose I have bizarre taste in humor. Those demanding standards were fulfilled today.
Rachel told me later that she was wondering at first how well an actual sermon would fit into this, and if they could be entertaining AND pull off a deep God lesson. We both agreed they did. The way the pastor spoke made you feel comfortable and relaxed, so it was easy to listen. The theme this Sunday was Jonah (the dumbest guy in the Bible), praying, and how God is constantly trying to get our attention.
"He who only prays in distress will have only stressed out prayer time," Funny Guy told us. He talked about how the best time to pray is when you don't have to. God wants us to talk to him, he aches for us. This is hard for us to grasp, and it is doubly hard for other religions to grasp. Think about it - in most religions God is like Simon Cowel. Everyone is obsessed with pleasing him and impressing him, even though they probably won't, and if they manage to it won't last. Muslims have to pray at certain times every day. It makes so much sense to me that my God doesn't want this. He wants us to be real. Come as we are. How cool is it that the Being who created the complex galaxies of the sky and the complex atoms of a molecule wants to have a personal relationship with each one of us? He wouldn't simply like to, no, he LONGS to. 2 Samuel 14:14 says, "Like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered, so we must die. But God does not take away life; instead, he devises ways so that a banished person may not remain estranged from him." We are never hopeless causes. We can never stray too far to be denied return if our hearts seek it.
If you haven't observed, I really liked this place. If Rachel one day drives onto the wrong road and never returns and the church exploration ends, I would go to this one every week. Of course, we have only been to four churches, but that's on the official exploration. I've been to countless in my 16 years. This one is top of the scale. Of course, that's just my preference. I'm sure the atmosphere would give souls who enjoy the traditional a conniption. Whatever that is. My anti-organized religion, church weary, free spirited, misfit, stoner dubbed friends (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) please go to this church. I found not one thing about the whole experience intimidating, and usually the mere word "church" intimidates me. And mainly, it was just really far out man.
I will leave the option of popping into the Mormon temple on the way up to you. Those guys WERE pretty darn good looking. Very focused and dedicated to their beliefs though, that was evident. I find a lot of respect in that and in their eagerness to share. I did tell Jon that he may be hunted down for having such a wack job girlfriend. Our conversation went like this:
Me: "My day was awesome. So guess what? I accidently went to a Mormon church this morning."
Jon: "Haha. Really? How long did it take 'till you and your friend found out and ran for your lives?"
(I then told him what happened and that he might want to deny knowing me from now on.)
Jon: "Hahaha!!! Yeah you might wanna watch out for that kid's parents. But don't worry. Most Mormons are pretty ridiculously friendly to visitors. But is that why your day was so good? Corrupting children makes you feel accomplished?"
I agreed they were the friendliest people I'd ever met. (I think I have made that point evident by now.) I also went on to tell him that the reason my day was so great was because there were major unexpected events. Those are my favorite.
Well, my coffee cup's empty. Let me end this by stating that I recommend New Life. This is the first of the four I recommend. I'm not just saying that because I talked to Funny Flannel Pastor Guy after the service and we wrote down our blog site, and he might be reading this. Sugar-coating is not an option for the Sally mind. As Simon Cowel always says with an indifferent British accent, "Sorry"
If you read all of that, this whole entry, I love you. Now enjoy your coffee,(not you Jon, you relish that root beer you adore so) and rest your brain and eyeballs, until next week.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
#3 Burke United Methodist Church
Now you are all caught up. This third venture aspired today, Feb. 21st, the same day I finally started this blog. We went to Burke United Methodist, in, you guessed it, Burke. "The one on the way to Walmart," as my mother referred to it upon finding out where I was headed.
I was pleased to discover Rachel had Stained Glass Masquerade on her i-pod and was still humming it in my head when we walked into what I would soon discover was the perfect example of a stained glass masquerade. We walked into the high-ceiling sanctuary and were handed massive programs by a boyscout who gave us a nod and cordially greeted us with an indifferent, "What up?" This was to be the highlight of today's experience. A girl in a long white robe holding a candle came down the aisle for what must have been "bringing the light into the sanctuary," according to the program. She was followed by a man and woman in long robes adorned with colorful scarf-type things. The candles were lit while a funeral dirge sounding song was played. Then came the call to worship which was written in the program and went like this:
Leader: "O people, worship the Lord! God is the One who sustains life."
People:(in monotone, almost robotic voices) "We sing praise to God our refuge."
Leader: "There is no place we can go where God is not."
People: "Amid all of our anxieties and fears, God's promises hold firm."
Leader: "No one lives by bread alone."
People: "The grace of the Lord is with us now. Thanks be to God!" (Trust me, there was no exclamation on the end of that sentence when spoken.)
Now that I type this out I see the words are certainly true, but when you're saying them in rhythm with everyone and being stared down by a man in a robe, its hard to think about the meaning for some reason. Next came a hymn called, "Sunday's Palms Are Wednesday's Ashes." Its main theme seemed to be how, as the song actually said, "we have failed." And as Rachel said, it was downright depressing.
Much to my scroogey distaste there was a stand-and-greet-your-neighbor time. But I put on a big smile (thank you coffee) and it was returned with other big smiles and "so glad your heres." We were then informed by robe man that the 18 elementary aged children of the church had baked cure-for-cancer cookies, today was Scout Sunday, and the congregation was trying to raise money for mentally challenged adults that needed help. Not bad, for people who have apparently failed. But hey, by faith and not by works we have been saved right? Though these guys ain't lacking in the works department.
Then came another prayer. I honestly lost track of how many times we prayed, and I could never figure out if he was praying or preaching. Also, throughout the entire service everyone would suddenly say in unison, "Thanks be to God! Amen." I never did figure out what the secret que for this was. I won't mention each time we prayed; just understand it was alot. Rachel particularly didn't like the robe woman's prayer - it had a lot of thees and thous. Rachel's response to this was sensibly, "Are you kidding me?" Also at one point one of the prayers merged into The Lord's Prayer, cuz suddenly I knew what they were saying. Yay AWANAS.
"Joys and Concerns" is what the program called the next segment. People in the congregation would share either a joy or concern with everyone. Only two joys were shared. This was a nice idea, but I think that sort of thing should be saved for small groups. I could not imagine standing up there and announcing, "Welp, this week I f'd up, but it's ok cuz God forgives so hallelujah!" and not be judged. And anyway, I'm pretty sure they don't have a response to that in their program.
Ok, maybe I'm being harsh. I am sure some people adore having a routine to follow each week. Perhaps its comforting and helps them feel secure? Personally I had enough right after the Miss America worthy pastor prayed for world peace AGAIN. I was also slightly disturbed by what was called, "children's time." All the children in the sanctuary came forward and had a mini Sunday school lesson in front of everyone. A lady who immediately became Mrs. Rodgers in my mind told them how we need special vision to see peoples' hearts and the story of Samuel. Her voice oozed in the way only adults can when trying too hard to talk to kids. The kids then repeated a prayer after her, asking God to give them special vision and be good.
This is a wonderful thing to teach them, of course. But why right then? Immediately after, they left for "Children's Church." So why not teach them then? It had quite the performance feel. They all looked so angelic and attentive as they listened. Were they really listening? Or thinking about how good waffles are, and if they shoved their fist in Mrs. Rodgers mouth would that smile still be plastered there? Are these children simply more pure-minded and focused then I can ever hope to be?
I wrote "Frightening" in the notebook I brought with me titled, "Church, for lack of a better title." Then feared the people behind me might be able to read it, so I flipped the page and wrote Rachel a note saying, "These people need to listen to Stained Glass Masquerade, methinks." She nodded. Throughout the service her pretty, almond shaped, almost Asian-looking eyes would actually get very wide. But takes one to know one. I'm sure I constantly looked equivalent to a deer caught in the headlights. We did both enjoy the part when a hefty man with a mustache belted out "The Gospel of Grace," which was a snazzy Amazing Grace update remix. The offering plates were gold, and Rachel and I recalled New Hope had pails, which we preferred.
As for the sermon, it was called, "Three Temptations." I have several pages of notes in my notebook on it, however I am not sure of it's point. This one was about as unclear as First Baptist's was clear. We weren't sure what he was getting at; everything robe man said made sense, but it was all very floaty. I was never able to really grasp anything. He talked about a hands-off life, but I couldn't figure out if he was for or against it. One page in my notebook says, "Robe man says reason for church is to make better people out of everyone, rich and poor alike. It is during worship here you are reminded how to be content, be right with God. I am not readily agreeing with this exactly." Written right after that is, "I am terrified to sneeze at this moment."
After more prayers and questions to ponder (don't worry, unindividuals, the answers were of course written in the program) the girl took the candle out and it was time to go. The program claimed, "We warmly welcome our first time visitors. We would like to present you with a gift and ask that you please introduce yourselves to the pastors before you leave." I had no intention to do this at first, but Rachel seemed to be for it and kept pointing to the word "gift" and, anyway, more adventure. We stood awkwardly in the reception hall, and then realized we were unintentionally already in a line to shake the robe man's hand. He was very friendly, asked us our names, and where we go to school. The gift was a canvas bag that says, "Caring For God's Creation At Burke United Methodist Church." He said it was to help us be green. This I liked very much, and practically doubled their points. As we said our goodbyes and thank yous to him, I had to catch myself from saying, "I enjoyed it." Because that would be a lie and lying in church, well, so not cool. I instead said, "It was very interesting," in a positive voice.
I meant it too. It was very interesting, in a good way. I would NEVER want to attend a church like this, but this has been my favorite venture so far, if only because it's so very different. I love different. Which is also why I could not regularly attend. I do still want to know what a Doxology is, though. Hurray for Wikipedia.
Rachel's Notes:
. Has a lot of outgoing ministries
. Seems like a family
. What is the Methodist church?
. Is the youth active?
. Are these people real?
. Worship wasn't moving
. Seems a lil like a cult. I guess all that reciting stuff isn't bad, I'd just get sick of the routine. (Sally readily agrees with this)
. Like the singin guy
. Like the sanctuary
http://www.burkeumc.org/
I was pleased to discover Rachel had Stained Glass Masquerade on her i-pod and was still humming it in my head when we walked into what I would soon discover was the perfect example of a stained glass masquerade. We walked into the high-ceiling sanctuary and were handed massive programs by a boyscout who gave us a nod and cordially greeted us with an indifferent, "What up?" This was to be the highlight of today's experience. A girl in a long white robe holding a candle came down the aisle for what must have been "bringing the light into the sanctuary," according to the program. She was followed by a man and woman in long robes adorned with colorful scarf-type things. The candles were lit while a funeral dirge sounding song was played. Then came the call to worship which was written in the program and went like this:
Leader: "O people, worship the Lord! God is the One who sustains life."
People:(in monotone, almost robotic voices) "We sing praise to God our refuge."
Leader: "There is no place we can go where God is not."
People: "Amid all of our anxieties and fears, God's promises hold firm."
Leader: "No one lives by bread alone."
People: "The grace of the Lord is with us now. Thanks be to God!" (Trust me, there was no exclamation on the end of that sentence when spoken.)
Now that I type this out I see the words are certainly true, but when you're saying them in rhythm with everyone and being stared down by a man in a robe, its hard to think about the meaning for some reason. Next came a hymn called, "Sunday's Palms Are Wednesday's Ashes." Its main theme seemed to be how, as the song actually said, "we have failed." And as Rachel said, it was downright depressing.
Much to my scroogey distaste there was a stand-and-greet-your-neighbor time. But I put on a big smile (thank you coffee) and it was returned with other big smiles and "so glad your heres." We were then informed by robe man that the 18 elementary aged children of the church had baked cure-for-cancer cookies, today was Scout Sunday, and the congregation was trying to raise money for mentally challenged adults that needed help. Not bad, for people who have apparently failed. But hey, by faith and not by works we have been saved right? Though these guys ain't lacking in the works department.
Then came another prayer. I honestly lost track of how many times we prayed, and I could never figure out if he was praying or preaching. Also, throughout the entire service everyone would suddenly say in unison, "Thanks be to God! Amen." I never did figure out what the secret que for this was. I won't mention each time we prayed; just understand it was alot. Rachel particularly didn't like the robe woman's prayer - it had a lot of thees and thous. Rachel's response to this was sensibly, "Are you kidding me?" Also at one point one of the prayers merged into The Lord's Prayer, cuz suddenly I knew what they were saying. Yay AWANAS.
"Joys and Concerns" is what the program called the next segment. People in the congregation would share either a joy or concern with everyone. Only two joys were shared. This was a nice idea, but I think that sort of thing should be saved for small groups. I could not imagine standing up there and announcing, "Welp, this week I f'd up, but it's ok cuz God forgives so hallelujah!" and not be judged. And anyway, I'm pretty sure they don't have a response to that in their program.
Ok, maybe I'm being harsh. I am sure some people adore having a routine to follow each week. Perhaps its comforting and helps them feel secure? Personally I had enough right after the Miss America worthy pastor prayed for world peace AGAIN. I was also slightly disturbed by what was called, "children's time." All the children in the sanctuary came forward and had a mini Sunday school lesson in front of everyone. A lady who immediately became Mrs. Rodgers in my mind told them how we need special vision to see peoples' hearts and the story of Samuel. Her voice oozed in the way only adults can when trying too hard to talk to kids. The kids then repeated a prayer after her, asking God to give them special vision and be good.
This is a wonderful thing to teach them, of course. But why right then? Immediately after, they left for "Children's Church." So why not teach them then? It had quite the performance feel. They all looked so angelic and attentive as they listened. Were they really listening? Or thinking about how good waffles are, and if they shoved their fist in Mrs. Rodgers mouth would that smile still be plastered there? Are these children simply more pure-minded and focused then I can ever hope to be?
I wrote "Frightening" in the notebook I brought with me titled, "Church, for lack of a better title." Then feared the people behind me might be able to read it, so I flipped the page and wrote Rachel a note saying, "These people need to listen to Stained Glass Masquerade, methinks." She nodded. Throughout the service her pretty, almond shaped, almost Asian-looking eyes would actually get very wide. But takes one to know one. I'm sure I constantly looked equivalent to a deer caught in the headlights. We did both enjoy the part when a hefty man with a mustache belted out "The Gospel of Grace," which was a snazzy Amazing Grace update remix. The offering plates were gold, and Rachel and I recalled New Hope had pails, which we preferred.
As for the sermon, it was called, "Three Temptations." I have several pages of notes in my notebook on it, however I am not sure of it's point. This one was about as unclear as First Baptist's was clear. We weren't sure what he was getting at; everything robe man said made sense, but it was all very floaty. I was never able to really grasp anything. He talked about a hands-off life, but I couldn't figure out if he was for or against it. One page in my notebook says, "Robe man says reason for church is to make better people out of everyone, rich and poor alike. It is during worship here you are reminded how to be content, be right with God. I am not readily agreeing with this exactly." Written right after that is, "I am terrified to sneeze at this moment."
After more prayers and questions to ponder (don't worry, unindividuals, the answers were of course written in the program) the girl took the candle out and it was time to go. The program claimed, "We warmly welcome our first time visitors. We would like to present you with a gift and ask that you please introduce yourselves to the pastors before you leave." I had no intention to do this at first, but Rachel seemed to be for it and kept pointing to the word "gift" and, anyway, more adventure. We stood awkwardly in the reception hall, and then realized we were unintentionally already in a line to shake the robe man's hand. He was very friendly, asked us our names, and where we go to school. The gift was a canvas bag that says, "Caring For God's Creation At Burke United Methodist Church." He said it was to help us be green. This I liked very much, and practically doubled their points. As we said our goodbyes and thank yous to him, I had to catch myself from saying, "I enjoyed it." Because that would be a lie and lying in church, well, so not cool. I instead said, "It was very interesting," in a positive voice.
I meant it too. It was very interesting, in a good way. I would NEVER want to attend a church like this, but this has been my favorite venture so far, if only because it's so very different. I love different. Which is also why I could not regularly attend. I do still want to know what a Doxology is, though. Hurray for Wikipedia.
Rachel's Notes:
. Has a lot of outgoing ministries
. Seems like a family
. What is the Methodist church?
. Is the youth active?
. Are these people real?
. Worship wasn't moving
. Seems a lil like a cult. I guess all that reciting stuff isn't bad, I'd just get sick of the routine. (Sally readily agrees with this)
. Like the singin guy
. Like the sanctuary
http://www.burkeumc.org/
#2 First Baptist
We succeeded in making it to First Baptist of Springfield second time around. Once again this was not a brand new destination for me, I went to Preschool there. When walking through the halls I could still vividly here the voices of my teachers thirteen years ago. "Now Sally Grace, that didn't really happen did it? Having a big imagination is a blessing, but you MUST stop making things up!" "SALLY GRACE GET DOWN FROM THERE" "Did we say you could leave the line to go talk to the stranger? No." And on and on.
Rachel and I walked into the room before the sanctuary, the foyer? There were old men in suits handing out programs, and equally old and fancy people slowly shuffling through doors with organ music drifting out. Standing there in skinny jeans, converse, and a Beatles shirt, i nearly keeled over with a spaz attack. Thankfully a man then asked us if we were looking for the contemporary service. I guess we looked as out of place as I felt. We were directed to the other end of the church, and I was subjected to more haunts from my preschool past, if i may be so dramatic.
The atmosphere in the contemporary service room was very different. I believe it doubled as the church gym, though it seemed awfully small for one. There were about 30 people all sitting on folding chairs the color of goose poop. The pastor did not stand on any sort of stage/podium. He simply stood in front of everyone and spoke, I don't recall a microphone.
The fact that there was nothing high tech was sweetly quaint, however it made it very hard to pay attention. I would realize that I was engrossed in watching a child see how many Cheerios he could fit in his belly button and had no idea what the pastor had just said. As Rachel pointed out, there were no slides to help you stay on track. No main points. I'm not sure what this says about this generations attention span, or lack there of, but it is what it is.
Luckily the sermon itself was very basic and easy to follow. Rachel and I both agreed it was good a thing, having the core and basis of the Christian belief re-presented now and again. It was refreshing.
Mary Poppins/Rachel had paper and pens in her purse, so I was able to scribble down thoughts for later instead of constantly and rudely whispering her ear off. Looking back at my notes from the message, it appears I attempted to write down what being a Christian is all about, what it means to have a relationship with God, though I was simply jotting down the pastors main points. I realize now this pastor did an excellent job in getting across many important ideas, presenting them in an easy to perceive, conversational sort of way. My crinkled piece of papers scrawlings include: "Not all that happens is good, but God can make something good come out of all." "Faith is always trusting. God will always give us what we need the most." "Romans 8" and my favorite "Information and knowledge never enough. Need something to grip our heart. Touch our soul. A relationship with God is personal." The message ended with "Renew or Commit" as I have written. After that I write "Basic? Hmm" Yes it was basic, but without a strong foundation the rest wont hold up for long, right?
As I pondered this, the importance of the basics constantly being re-enforced was made considerably more evident when a little boy about 8 went up to the pastor, accompanied by his mother. He spoke to the pastor for a moment and they prayed, then the pastor proceeded to ask for the attention of the room and announced the kiddos decision to accept Christ into his heart. He asked that everyone come and welcome Jacob into the family of Christ. On the projector we noticed a verse suddenly up there, talking about "The God of Jacob." Coincidence? I don't know, but either way it was pretty darn awesome.
Rachel and I both observed the seemingly lack of excitement towards visitors. They weren't rude or anything. But it was a very small group and we felt as if they were all eyeing us, the new faces. However nobody said hello or anything. Personally id rather have it be that way then be asked to stand up or raise my hand or whatever. *shivers*
Rachel and I walked into the room before the sanctuary, the foyer? There were old men in suits handing out programs, and equally old and fancy people slowly shuffling through doors with organ music drifting out. Standing there in skinny jeans, converse, and a Beatles shirt, i nearly keeled over with a spaz attack. Thankfully a man then asked us if we were looking for the contemporary service. I guess we looked as out of place as I felt. We were directed to the other end of the church, and I was subjected to more haunts from my preschool past, if i may be so dramatic.
The atmosphere in the contemporary service room was very different. I believe it doubled as the church gym, though it seemed awfully small for one. There were about 30 people all sitting on folding chairs the color of goose poop. The pastor did not stand on any sort of stage/podium. He simply stood in front of everyone and spoke, I don't recall a microphone.
The fact that there was nothing high tech was sweetly quaint, however it made it very hard to pay attention. I would realize that I was engrossed in watching a child see how many Cheerios he could fit in his belly button and had no idea what the pastor had just said. As Rachel pointed out, there were no slides to help you stay on track. No main points. I'm not sure what this says about this generations attention span, or lack there of, but it is what it is.
Luckily the sermon itself was very basic and easy to follow. Rachel and I both agreed it was good a thing, having the core and basis of the Christian belief re-presented now and again. It was refreshing.
Mary Poppins/Rachel had paper and pens in her purse, so I was able to scribble down thoughts for later instead of constantly and rudely whispering her ear off. Looking back at my notes from the message, it appears I attempted to write down what being a Christian is all about, what it means to have a relationship with God, though I was simply jotting down the pastors main points. I realize now this pastor did an excellent job in getting across many important ideas, presenting them in an easy to perceive, conversational sort of way. My crinkled piece of papers scrawlings include: "Not all that happens is good, but God can make something good come out of all." "Faith is always trusting. God will always give us what we need the most." "Romans 8" and my favorite "Information and knowledge never enough. Need something to grip our heart. Touch our soul. A relationship with God is personal." The message ended with "Renew or Commit" as I have written. After that I write "Basic? Hmm" Yes it was basic, but without a strong foundation the rest wont hold up for long, right?
As I pondered this, the importance of the basics constantly being re-enforced was made considerably more evident when a little boy about 8 went up to the pastor, accompanied by his mother. He spoke to the pastor for a moment and they prayed, then the pastor proceeded to ask for the attention of the room and announced the kiddos decision to accept Christ into his heart. He asked that everyone come and welcome Jacob into the family of Christ. On the projector we noticed a verse suddenly up there, talking about "The God of Jacob." Coincidence? I don't know, but either way it was pretty darn awesome.
Rachel and I both observed the seemingly lack of excitement towards visitors. They weren't rude or anything. But it was a very small group and we felt as if they were all eyeing us, the new faces. However nobody said hello or anything. Personally id rather have it be that way then be asked to stand up or raise my hand or whatever. *shivers*
#1 New Hope
http://www.newhope.org/nh/index.php?option=com_frontpage&Itemid=1&hl=1
For our first discovery stop Rachel and I planned to visit First Baptist of Springfield. Apparently I live closer in Rachel time then reality, because she arrived rather late to pick me up. This was fine because now I had time to drink more coffee and thus was able to be an all around nicer person in the morning, but that's beside the point. By the time we got to First Baptist the service would already have started, and the idea of walking in late and being noticed by everyone was not appealing. I suggested New Hope, mainly because I knew where it was. It was the church I was born into, and I had actually visited a few times not long ago. So this wouldnt be a completely new experience, but no matter.
It was raining when we arrived and there were people in the parking lot passing out giant umbrellas. "Major points for this" I commented and Rachel agreed, saying "We should keep track somehow." It was then, when we were trotting through the parking lot dodging puddles, that the blog idea was formed.
New Hope has a community center type feel. It's a brand new building complete with tv monitors everywhere, complementary soda and coffee in a cafe esque area, and the coolest indoor playground I've ever seen which includes a slide to go from the top floor to the bottom. The vibe was very casual and laid back, most everyone was wearing jeans, I spotted lots of leather jackets. More points.
The sanctuary was really nice, as was the music. The songs were all popular currant ones I believe, I recognized them from the Christian radio station I sometimes briefly hear my mom playing before turning my own music up louder. All except one, that is. It hit me as soon as I heard it, and Rachel too, she promptly wrote down the title. As I listened to it I couldn't help but think how perfect it was, a wonderful opening theme song for our adventure. It pretty much summed up my feelings for church. I will paste the lyrics at the end of this post, but warning, it really makes you think.
The message connected to the song, here is the overview that was on the website: "If we’re honest we’d all love to have some people in our lives who we can be real with and who help us grow in our relationship with God. That’s what small groups are all about and it’s in the context of those relationship where our lives are really changed. This Sunday, Chris Hough will be speaking on how authentic community is essential for reaching your full spiritual potential."
The sermon was indeed interesting, however Rachel and I both concluded that there was nothing completely mind blowing or life altering about it, to us anyway. We walked away thinking "Yes, that makes sense." It was that song though, that left the biggest impact.
"Stained Glass Masquerade" By Casting Crowns
Is there anyone that fails
Is there anyone that falls
Am I the only one in church today feelin' so small
Cause when I take a look around
Everybody seems so strong
I know they'll soon discover
That I don't belong
So I tuck it all away, like everything's okay
If I make them all believe it, maybe I'll believe it too
So with a painted grin, I play the part again
So everyone will see me the way that I see them
Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hide our pain
But if the invitation's open
To every heart that has been broken
Maybe then we close the curtain
On our stained glass masquerade
Is there anyone who's been there
Are there any hands to raise
Am I the only one who's traded
In the altar for a stage
The performance is convincing
And we know every line by heart
Only when no one is watching
Can we really fall apart
But would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be
Would your arms be open
Or would you walk away
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay
For our first discovery stop Rachel and I planned to visit First Baptist of Springfield. Apparently I live closer in Rachel time then reality, because she arrived rather late to pick me up. This was fine because now I had time to drink more coffee and thus was able to be an all around nicer person in the morning, but that's beside the point. By the time we got to First Baptist the service would already have started, and the idea of walking in late and being noticed by everyone was not appealing. I suggested New Hope, mainly because I knew where it was. It was the church I was born into, and I had actually visited a few times not long ago. So this wouldnt be a completely new experience, but no matter.
It was raining when we arrived and there were people in the parking lot passing out giant umbrellas. "Major points for this" I commented and Rachel agreed, saying "We should keep track somehow." It was then, when we were trotting through the parking lot dodging puddles, that the blog idea was formed.
New Hope has a community center type feel. It's a brand new building complete with tv monitors everywhere, complementary soda and coffee in a cafe esque area, and the coolest indoor playground I've ever seen which includes a slide to go from the top floor to the bottom. The vibe was very casual and laid back, most everyone was wearing jeans, I spotted lots of leather jackets. More points.
The sanctuary was really nice, as was the music. The songs were all popular currant ones I believe, I recognized them from the Christian radio station I sometimes briefly hear my mom playing before turning my own music up louder. All except one, that is. It hit me as soon as I heard it, and Rachel too, she promptly wrote down the title. As I listened to it I couldn't help but think how perfect it was, a wonderful opening theme song for our adventure. It pretty much summed up my feelings for church. I will paste the lyrics at the end of this post, but warning, it really makes you think.
The message connected to the song, here is the overview that was on the website: "If we’re honest we’d all love to have some people in our lives who we can be real with and who help us grow in our relationship with God. That’s what small groups are all about and it’s in the context of those relationship where our lives are really changed. This Sunday, Chris Hough will be speaking on how authentic community is essential for reaching your full spiritual potential."
The sermon was indeed interesting, however Rachel and I both concluded that there was nothing completely mind blowing or life altering about it, to us anyway. We walked away thinking "Yes, that makes sense." It was that song though, that left the biggest impact.
"Stained Glass Masquerade" By Casting Crowns
Is there anyone that fails
Is there anyone that falls
Am I the only one in church today feelin' so small
Cause when I take a look around
Everybody seems so strong
I know they'll soon discover
That I don't belong
So I tuck it all away, like everything's okay
If I make them all believe it, maybe I'll believe it too
So with a painted grin, I play the part again
So everyone will see me the way that I see them
Are we happy plastic people
Under shiny plastic steeples
With walls around our weakness
And smiles to hide our pain
But if the invitation's open
To every heart that has been broken
Maybe then we close the curtain
On our stained glass masquerade
Is there anyone who's been there
Are there any hands to raise
Am I the only one who's traded
In the altar for a stage
The performance is convincing
And we know every line by heart
Only when no one is watching
Can we really fall apart
But would it set me free
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be
Would your arms be open
Or would you walk away
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay
The Journey Begins
Once upon a time (as all adventures must begin) my close friend Rachel Treharne and I came up with one of our best adventure ideas yet. We decided to embark upon a grand church exploration. We wanted to see what was out there and decided to visit a new church each week, keeping our minds open and getting a feel for the vibe of each new gathering place.
Rachel and I originally became friends through Burke Community Church, back in jr. high. However, I have not attended for the last two and a half years. Let me make it clear I love Jesus as my Lord and Savior with all my heart and believe only through his grace am I saved. You see, it's his fan club I have issues with. For the past two years I've gone by the idea "Going to church doesn't make you a Christian anymore then standing in a garage makes you a car." Basically organized religion completely repulsed me.
What changed my mind then? The fact that closed minds are immensely more repulsive then organized religion, when it comes down to it. I never want to conclude "this is it" or "this is how things are." And mostly, I am just curious. I am interested in discovering and glimpsing the ways of the many different gatherings that go on each week. I love ideas in general. I'd like to get an inkling of the way differing people perceive life, eventually being able to note some of the differences and similarities everywhere. For me this is not a journey to find God or myself, it is simply to (as the bear who went over the mountain did) see what I can see. I am so excited Rachel shares my curiosity, and as she put it this morning "I love not knowing what to expect, it's the best." Agreed.
We have now been to three churches, I will catch you up then continue to post. I WILL stay on top of this. I hope you'll benefit somehow from reading these thoughts. Perhaps you will be encouraged to check out some churches of your own, ponder the significance and meaning of the church in general, or merely brush up on your grammar and spelling by noteing my many mistakes.
Rachel and I originally became friends through Burke Community Church, back in jr. high. However, I have not attended for the last two and a half years. Let me make it clear I love Jesus as my Lord and Savior with all my heart and believe only through his grace am I saved. You see, it's his fan club I have issues with. For the past two years I've gone by the idea "Going to church doesn't make you a Christian anymore then standing in a garage makes you a car." Basically organized religion completely repulsed me.
What changed my mind then? The fact that closed minds are immensely more repulsive then organized religion, when it comes down to it. I never want to conclude "this is it" or "this is how things are." And mostly, I am just curious. I am interested in discovering and glimpsing the ways of the many different gatherings that go on each week. I love ideas in general. I'd like to get an inkling of the way differing people perceive life, eventually being able to note some of the differences and similarities everywhere. For me this is not a journey to find God or myself, it is simply to (as the bear who went over the mountain did) see what I can see. I am so excited Rachel shares my curiosity, and as she put it this morning "I love not knowing what to expect, it's the best." Agreed.
We have now been to three churches, I will catch you up then continue to post. I WILL stay on top of this. I hope you'll benefit somehow from reading these thoughts. Perhaps you will be encouraged to check out some churches of your own, ponder the significance and meaning of the church in general, or merely brush up on your grammar and spelling by noteing my many mistakes.
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