Today I had the immense pleasure of being a part of a “church tour.” Meaning, for the day we traveled to three different churches, three different services and just simply experienced them.
Now this day was right up my alley, I loved it! I left with more questions than answers and more importantly knowing just a smidge more about myself. Not to mention had a fabulous time with people I love in fascinating new places on a sunny day :)
Most prominently my head reels (and rather squeals and squirms) after my experience at the second church we attended. We were informed about each church before the trip, even watched welcome videos and read statements of faith - but with all the nonsense my life is crowded with I couldn’t keep them straight or remember a thing about what I was supposed to be “expecting”.
I guess the walk to the church didn’t hurt in lightening my mood. We were on Queen Anne Hill walking through communities of quaint rustic houses with gardens and flowers and just a general loveliness that immediately lit my soul alight as I exclaimed (at most everything) “What!? I want to live here!!!! This is my place! I love it!”
Before I gush uncontrollably (be prepared) I’ll say that I am still grounded. I do still love the people God has called me to be around now, I do not envision this as “perfect church” or “the right way” I just view this as something I’ve never seen before and something that truly spoke to me and painted a grin on my face that wouldn’t fade.
It’s times like these in which I wish I had a talent with words. In which I wish I was created in a way that I could express the depth of my emotion through words - unfortunately (as any of you know) my emotions are very reactionary, instead. It is much more common, much more natural for me to just let out squeals or mixed up improper sentences of extreme excitement to express positive emotion.
If I had a way with words I could let you know how it felt.
How it felt to have the sun on my skin as I walked through a fascinating neighborhood and straight up to a church in which I had no expectations. No preconceived notions, just a contented attitude and a desire for something, anything, to be found there that I had not found before.
Upon entering the building (the very sweetly styled old building that I covet, that is) there was a gentle roar. Not lion roar, mind you - but the roar of a community. The sound of conversation, of interest, of investment, of connection. It just felt good. Brittney, who was at my side (and who does have a way with expressing herself with words ;) immediately said “Oh, I’m home.” - that couldn’t have expressed it any greater. It just felt comfortable. It just did.
We talked with a few people, introduced ourselves, shared bits of our lives and stories over refreshments and so forth. Then filtered into the “sanctuary” or perhaps I think they’d refer to it more simply as the main room. (Which was beautiful and quaint as well)
“Worship” was my second clue that this place had my heart.
We sang a song, the small congregation/gathering accompanied by a simple keyboardist and vocalist on the stage.
But then we were asked to sit. “One song? Hm.. weird, cool, okay..”
She (the vocalist) then explained that they were going to do something a little different, but that she thought to be valuable. She talked about worship, explained its purpose or rather her thoughts on the response to God and His greatness and how that filters into the lives of others around us. & then she preceded to read the story of the writer of a famous hymn. She explained the background of the hymn and why it meant so much to the writer and people back then. After hearing the depth and richness of meaning we sang the hymn together. We worshiped together. Generally, I don’t think much of hymns, not that I don’t like them, I just don’t think about them much - it was nice to go old style without kicking it old-style, you-know? Simple.
Two more back-stories read by others, each followed by the song being sung. It just led to a level of contemplation, I felt. And it was just so simple.
In that moment I realized something about myself (and I do clarify I’m not stating “wrong or right” but rather what I like best) is that I don’t want to be entertained in worship. I mean, it wasn’t awkward, she had a great voice and he was a great keyboard player, but it was simple. It wasn’t distracting. It was contemplative. I worship most strongly in contemplation.
Now, this experience did not end… it got better, and I’ve got more to share (to anyone who’ll read it ;) but I do have to get up in five hours for a long next few weeks so I’m going to wrap this up with a
“to be continued…” because I know we all love those.
