Church III:The Church of Christ (unambiguous)

I do not know how to begin this blog. So far it has literally just flowed as soon as I left the church building. But now, it is so different, people are beginning to read, offer suggestions, invite me to visit their church (please continue), and ask questions about motives.  What am I getting from this, and am I leaving any sort of encouragement with them?

Then I begin to think should I categorize my visit? A Sunday morning in infinitely different then a Wednesday night, a “young adults” meeting is polar opposites to bible study…and what about the women’s meetings?

We join my latest visit at my desk in my office, Wednesday afternoon. I didn’t hit up a church on Sunday so I will fall behind in my goal if I don’t make a visit today. I want something close, which is hard seeing as my office is 15 miles from a major freeway.  So I hit up my trusty Google, which seems to have some difficulty in rural areas, mostly because these backroads churches don’t have websites to refer back to. On another hand the large mega- churches do not have Wednesday night services except for small groups...which could take months to break into, not really an option on a Wednesday afternoon.  You can’t show up on any given campus on any given Wednesday and blend. I called such a church in Denton 5 minutes after office closing time in hopes of getting a recording; no such luck, the polite gentleman explained that Wednesday was held at individual homes, and I could come to the monthly assignment Sunday in 2 weeks.  *or not.*

Some nifty white pages maneuvering and I zeroed in on a Church of Christ. Trying to pull from my denominational checklist I couldn’t recall the tenants of said denomination and instead of doing some quick researched grabbed my bag and was out the door.  If it has Christ in it I should be good, right?

As per my arrival times so far, I was a couple minutes late.  The map on the website was right on, and I didn’t get lost, which was a plus. 

Rabbit Trail ALERT: Check out another churches' marquee which  I stopped to take a picture of on the way!  A very welcoming hand to the community, yes?  SMH

Back to my target church..it was by far the largest I have blogged so far, and had loads of cars parked on both sides of the main pavilion and smaller classroom arms extending from each side.  I tried to chew my gum to kill the breath from the chicken sandwich I grabbed on the way, but was worried they may see gum a little progressive, where are my altoids when I need them? I glanced at an also late family walking in and breathed a sigh of relief that my work clothes wouldn’t be appropriate.

I entered a small lobby area that had the 8 doors to the auditorium standing at open. As the speaker had already begun I snuck around grabbing what I thought was a bulletin on my way in; turns out it was a church directory….so much for my anecdotal bulletin reconnaissance.

It was a perfect re-creation of an auditorium I had been to before, but I couldn’t pinpoint which one. Except something was missing…oooohhhh...INSTRUMENTS! Not even an organ, a harp, or guitar string to speak of. But, no time to consider the implications of this, the speaker was on a roll.  As I made my way to my seat (second row from the back because some chick stole my customary visitor back row), I got wind of the discussion. About thirty-five people were yelling out an answer to a question unbeknownst to me…”playing cards,” “women wearing slacks,” “co-ed swimming,” “dancing.” The preacher thanked the crowd and went on to explain about how customs change from generation to generation and how many religious rules and regulations are often times based on human tradition.  He then went to his text in Colossians 2:8, see the full chapter here: (Collossians 2)

He then went on to disparage those who believe that you can simply invite Jesus in, and established baptism as the point of which people are spiritually circumcised, and the line which is crossed to enter into Christendom.  He made a very good case. He then opened the floor to questions and I really, really wanted to ask him about the man crucified beside Christ, who cried out to him and was promised to be with Jesus that very same day in paradise. Perhaps he was an exception because he was in the actual physical presence of Jesus? I truly just wanted to see what he would say. But wisely kept my “first time visiting” mouth shut.

The lesson was very brief, and a bell rang so the preacher closed.  Everyone remained seated. The chick who took my back row seat leaned forward and introduced herself. When I asked if it was over she explained that all of the other classes came together for a final devotion, and people began to pour into the auditorium, first the kids ran in, then what looked like a young adults ministry, the youth lingered in clumps in the back, and lastly the women folk. The talk of the church was the first week of school, scarcely a soul was unlinked to a family in the church; therefore “singles ministry,” thank you Jesus! 

The clump of mothers who took up residence in the row ahead of me eyed me interestingly until the mother hen arrived and introduced herself. This was perhaps the friendliest church I had been to so far. We were soon interrupted by a row of 4 guys giving announcements, then a 5th guy who was in charge of this week’s devotional. Mama hen quietly informed me that different men in the church volunteered for the weekly devotional.  

This guy perhaps had a heart of gold and a truly intriguing devotional, however, he seemed stone cold nervous.  He shared the remarkable story of George Walser, an anti-religionist, agnostic lawyer. He bought 2,000 acres of land and advertised across the country for atheists to come and: "found a town without a church, [w]here unbelievers could bring up their children without religious training,” and where Christians were not allowed. “His idea was to build up a town that should exclusively be the home of Infidels...a town that should have neither God, Hell, Church, nor Saloon.” Some of the early inhabitants of Liberal even encouraged other infidels to move to their town by publishing an advertisement which boasted that Liberal “is the only town of its size in the United States without a priest, preacher, church, saloon, God, Jesus, hell or devil.” Read the entire story (here)

I think he read the story straight from Wikipedia, then as if everyone got the memo but me; the church stood with their hymnals and sang acapella from page 907. And it was over just like that.

Since mother hen had approved of me the flock came around and greeted me, asked me questions, showed off their children and pointed out their husbands. They asked very in depth questions. I’m beginning to think I may need a cover name and/or cover story, especially in such a small town as this. People know my place of work, and my boss, and they genuinely desire to know why I came, and if I will return…things could get dicey.  Help me think of a good cover story, readers!  One of the husbands even looked me up and down surreptitiously and asked what I was selling.  Such suspicion towards a newcomer, ha! Perhaps warranted, am I a wolf in sheep’s clothing?  As the “fellowship” started to wind down mama hen introduced me to the church secretary, laughing as she explained that if women could be in church leadership…she would run the place, because she practically already did. I find it amazing, and inspiring  that the very defining tenants of their denomination are freely and constantly shared with even those newly acquainted, no secrets there, its all on the table. I like that.  I would perhaps return,  the pros almost outweigh the cons. It would be a theological stretch for sure, but everyone needs a good stretch before we run, right?

Coming up in the next couple of weeks:  A mega church, a catholic mass, and the church everyone confuses with my current home church. Stay tuned!

Church II- I googled it.

To be honest, I have been mulling this blogging idea for a while. But perhaps I jumped in without considering some of the logistics of visiting 52 churches in a year. For example; which churches should I pick to get a good cross section, and how do I pick them? Will taking someone with me ruin the "visitor effect." Who has the time to really dig in and do the research to find out all of this stuff. So I decided this week to do as a person truly searching for a church would do.

I went to the church down the street of my house in Dallas. Well, more like I passed it as I had about a hundred times. However, since I have begun my quest I have a keener sense of just how many churches there are out there, because every time I pass one it is going in the "potential visit" file. Its the same thing when your crush has a red honda...you all of a sudden see them everywhere.

I flipped a U- turn on this Sunday afternoon, and wanted to check out this new inquiry. I took note of the impeccably manicured plants, and sparkling sidewalks of the building that seats up to 300. I noticed the marquee said "we missed you last week, hope to see you this Sunday." I thought to myself, "So you shall clever marquee, so you shall." I swung by the door in search of a service time to see when my visit should be made. -Nothing. Maybe the marquee said a time? No go. Sigh, I would have to go inside. I got out and tried the door, locked. I considered leaving a note, but due to the heat, and my lack of will to think of something less then scathing to say, I refrained. On my way out of the parking lot I considered why they may not think it necessary to post service times. Maybe because everyone who goes there knows what time it starts...why would anyone else need to know? Disheartening.

I turned to my trusty friend Google. He always knows what to do. I quickly found, to my dismay, how difficult it is to find a church, particularly with a service on a Sunday night. Finally, with a little luck and a lot of fanagling I got one!

This church has a tree name. (Last week it was based on geographical location.) After converting the map to my photographic memory I set off to church number 2. It started at an odd time: 6:15. This worried me, ceratinly something was happening before the service that prevented it from being on the hour...or the half. Maybe it was somwthing I wanted to do, but they didnt give me the option.
I got a bit turned around enroute, but quickly recovered. As I approached the parking lot I noticed that there were many different cars, good sign! I gathered my purse and notebook and spied a greeter guy spy me in return through the glass door then turn back. He was watching me; this always makes you walk different, more with purpose. I heard lively music, score! As I approached he opened the door and smiled widely with his gold tooth, albeit strained as if I had disrupted him. When the door opened I heard that they were singing a familiar song in spanish. "O como rio di aqua viva..."  He told me, I think you go over there. Ohhhhh 2 services. What, I don't look like I speak spanish?!?

I entered the second door and noted what looked like an ash tray, and saw to my left the sanctuary, and the signs, which I couldnt get a good picture of that said: "Turn off phone " and a few welcome pamphlets. As I was late I didnt want to distrub. Before I could make a quiet entrance a lovely lady came out to greet me sweetly and usher me in. I learned later that she was the pastors wife, she reminded me of a certain movie star...but I couldn't place her name.

Although there had been no singing I noticed that there was both a shining new drum set and quite archaic organ in their respective corners. I wanted to hear what ensemble these would produce together, but such is life. There was also a "Jesus being baptized" mural atop the baptismal. Whenever I see these my mind invariable wonders to who did it, how long it took, and do they still shine with pride every time they see it, or perhaps lament an imperceptible mistake that only they know of? I always place my chips on the latter.

The Pastor welcomed me briefly from the pulpit and got on with the Bible study. He was very well versed and spoke clearly without a microphone. He even threw in the law of first mention; a classic pastoral tool. Love it. The text was based in Psalms and focused on the prophetic placement of scriptures within the 22nd, 23rd, and 24th chapters. It was very enthralling and the 25 minutes flew by.  After a brief Q & A session which revealed a comfortable rapport amongst the congregation of 11 older couples, the Pastor dismissed and the church cleared very quickly.

Pastors wife came over after service to connect with me and was very genuinelty nice, she inquired to how I found them and was delighted to find that I had googled it! She introduced the gentleman in charge of the website and he was happy to hear that news also. Pastor joined us and I inquired about the church. He was happy to share with me their robust outreach program. They feed almost 200 families every Tuesday and have basketball and skate ministries for youth.


Over all I would probably return to this church, and I am sure they have plenty of space for church involvement, genuine heart, and strong teaching. So happy to find such a sweet congregation on google. Google for the win!

As for next week I am going to try a mega church! Maybe then I will connect to someone within 25 years of my own age. Can't wait!

Church I, Genesis chapter 1, in the beginning there was Baptists

For my first church visit I had been eyeing this little roadside Baptist church that
I pass everyday on the way to the house that I am staying in. you never know walking into a place if they are going to be stark raving mad, or super sugary sweet. I was running a little late which I figured may impede my ability to take good notes. 

When I pulled in to the parking lot which consisted of a gravel open area and 9 spots along the front, I wasn’t sure where the church met.  So I picked a spot between a large truck and a station wagon. Only to find that the 9 spots were all topped with handwritten handicap signs. Not a good sign. So I went around to the side and created my own spot in the gravel.  I got out and surveyed the buildings. One was a smaller chapel looking area, sitting along side it was a much larger prefab structure. 

Chapel it is. So I walked around to what seemed like the entrance and prayed as I opened the door that I wasn’t opening the door to the stage. Prayer answered. I stepped into a long narrow lobby and saw the typical lobby items, the prayer box, the missionary board, the sign-up sheet for VBS with only one name on it.

When I entered everything stopped. The gentleman rifling through a hymnal at the pulpit saw my unfamiliar face and stop mid-sentence to greet me “Nice to see you, so happy to have you here”. The 19 elderly folks sprinkled through one side of the pews all turned to see the commotion.  I mumbled a “thank you” and took a seat in the back row. 

Then Grandma Gould came up behind me…“Well whose young’un are you?”  I proceeded to have a lovely welcoming chat with her. Unfortunately, the only way for her to hear my answers to her questions was for me to half whisper half shout putting a little damper on the gentleman leading the hymnal songs. Strike one, Miriam! Turns out she is the quasi-matriarch of the church and has been going there for the entirety of her 98 years on August 23^rd, thank you very much.  She also mentioned that the youth met in the next building, as I’m a little north of the youth category I stood firm on my back pew.

Well on to the songs. The guy at the front kept apologizing to the audience that no piano player was there, just him. Nobody seemed to mind really, and at the end of each song another member would call out a number. 315- Majesty, worship his majesty. 212-Jesus, name above all names.  I was shocked to find that I knew every song.  Had my childhood church been singing “Baptist songs?” Note to self: research what hymnals we used. 

After a few painfully heartfelt songs, it was prayer time. The church conveniently lists the prayer requests in the bulletin for easy reference during the week. “ Turns out Linda’s hip surgery didn’t take, she is back at home waiting some test.”  “ James is trying to quit smoking.” But atop the list “RAIN.” For these people rain is not just a commute annoyance, or a fun puddle to splash in. Rain means food on the table, and roof over your head.  Then there was the ever present “unspoken.” I hadn’t heard the term in so long! It means I have a need, but nobody but God needs to know. Now, growing up it always puzzled me that they would mention an unspoken, seems a little counterintuitive; I realized as I got older the power of agreement. Typically I would get distracted and try to figure out what it was…I would sit and mull the possibilities until I had it set in my head what this undercover secret prayer request was. It was odd, for once, to have no idea. Finally, the Pastor had us form a circle, and the only guy under 45 appeared from nowhere to hold my hand, and smile at me ever so sweetly. 

It just so happened I had stumbled upon Testimony night (aka long week no chance to prepare a sermon night). I was a bit disappointed to not get to hear the pastor speak, although he did intone that our testimony was the greatest thing to leave to our grandchildren. (A little out of my age category?) Strike two, Miriam!  The first lady up to mic took 10 minutes to reiterate how scared she had been to accept Jesus at 6 years old because she was afraid of the water and being baptized.  Each one was in story form and personal anecdotes that I found a little bit difficult to follow such as :”you know how Billy is..” and “it was until she got married that one summer.’ But all were completely heartfelt.

Then the Pastor closed in a word of prayer.  Almost every member came to shake my hand. The pastor was very interested to know how I heard about the church, he wanted to know my spiritual background and showed me how he had gone to Africa for a month. Then I met his wife who had been covering the nursery. Right after hearing my name she asked if I sang and if I could help with VBS. I told her I sing only in the shower. Strike three, Miriam! Ha! Church involvement presents itself at every corner.

Overall I would recommend it to someone looking for an older congregation to connect with. I didn’t feel overwhelmed by them, neither did I get a great connection.  The pews were very comfortable, and the bathroom was clean, not a lot more that this church chick needs. I’ll probably stop by in a couple of weeks to wish Grandma Gould happy 98^th birthday, besides that it’s on to the next church!

Never been a visitor...until now.

Well, this is new.
I never just go to church, nor have I ever pew hopped. I am quite simply the committed Christian church goer. There has always been a "home church."
Growing up my sister and I, along with a couple other hard core church going families held the distinction of "church kids." We knew how to trick out the gumball machine, we could say every line of every part to the annual Easter play, we had a corner market on the gold stars in Sunday School, and we knew (and probably still know) every hand motion to every song in the hymnal. We played tag for what seemed like hours after church every Sunday afternoon while our parents ministered, and fellowshipped. Church was like breathing...breath in-sanctuary, breath out-fellowship hall.

It was hard to leave, but upon graduating high school I went to a drumroll please... Church School. I left my home church to gain a second home church AKA the Mega-church. Which can only mean one thing, Mega-involvement. This place was like the disneyland of ministries, it was all there. When this becomes your home church there is so much more to do. I knew the catwalk where the flying angels descended, I could name every entrance and exit on all three balconies, I knew the hidden parking spot on big days, and the fountains held some personal items that slipped during a prayer session.....ahhhh home church.

But alas, like any good church drama, things change. I decided to grow with my Pastor and move to the great (as in large) state of Texas to help start a *New* home church. Oh, the baby church! So exciting! You are in on the ground floor, you greet every new comer as if they are the archangel announcing lotto numbers, you are 5% of the church body, it more then a home church, its a family...meeting in a home! ha!

So imagine my surprise when my path leads me to move 40 miles north of home church. I still go, and will continue to go to my home church. However it leaves a wide gap through the middle of my once a week trek. so my options are
a. just go weekly. 
b. find another midweek church
OR
c. do things the Miriam way, and be a "visitor" to a different church every week documenting my findings in this blog!

The possibilities for research are endless. What does a visitor feel like walking in? Do they really park in the visitor parking? How many free cookies will I consume? Are the youth pastors jokes funny to someone who doesn't know him? Can a heart really connect in one visit to a church? Will they look at me weird? What kind of clever marquees will I run into? What will I LEARN!?!?

Pastors will beat down my door waiting to pick my brain...or you just may find it funny. Either way, I'm doing it!

So what questions should I ask myself when I go into a church?  I'm starting tonight!