52 Churches

There were two major determining factors in where we went this morning. First, Salem Lutheran doesn’t have a website, and their announcement last night said, “We have canceled our Christmas Eve service, blah blah; here’s some alternatives, blah blah; we will be closed until December 29th.” No service times, or the 28th mentioned. We couldn’t get in contact with our friend who goes there this morning, and only had a vague recollection that the service might be at 10am (from a conversation we’d had a year ago). Additionally, our road was a sheet of very scary ice, and we weren’t sure what shape the downtown was in, so we landed (having come down the ice and then removed the chains), at the 10am at Spokane Christian Center, a half hour closer than Salem Lutheran.

I kind of hoped the project would end with a bang, not a whimper, and there might be two things from this morning that would help this qualify.

First, the pastor seemed to not know the gender or the name of the baby he dedicated this morning . . . and I suspect he didn’t know the parents’ names, either. He first called the family up to “gather around . . . it” and, having decided the infant in question was a boy, did refer to “him” after the first two instances of calling him “it.” Farmergirl thought maybe he was trying to avoid saying the baby’s name, but I suspect that much dancing around, avoiding anyone’s name, is a symptom of not knowing their names, rather than avoiding speaking them out loud. He also said we needed to do (something–I didn’t write down what–pay attention? focus? think good thoughts?)–that we needed to do this thing, otherwise the dedication “is just a religious thing and it will have very little meaning.” He wrapped it up with asking us to “release our faith into [the baby being dedicated]” which seemed to involve stretching out one’s arms in the nameless baby’s general direction.

The dedication was bookended by a half hour of singing, and more than an hour of preaching. Michael snoozed through a chunk of the sermon, probably because he wasn’t taking notes. Had he been taking notes, he might have written quotations from the sermon like this, whose main point was supposed to be, I think, the Sermon on the Mount:

Jesus’ sermons are the purest because they have “no carnality” . . . this is Rhema to you and I . . . my [Jesus’] flavor can preserve a situation . . . wreck the Devil . . . If all the Christians in all those churches were [being salt and light], we wouldn’t have the city we have [and the crime we have in Spokane] . . . a God-dream dropped into [Joseph, son of Issac] . . . [too often we] let circumstances, events, or other people dampen [our God-dream], or let it go out entirely . . . . dreams can be stolen because they aren’t accepted up front . . . beware of brothers who don’t have a dream . . . Reinhard Bonnke raised an embalmed man from the dead . . . Joseph (Mary’s husband) was Jesus’ “earth prototype” . . . The Messiah Plan . . . be satisfied with the dream God gives you . . . dreams are fragile; they can be stolen, broken, discouraged, go dormant, be stuck under a bushel, unfulfilled, not attempted . . . teens are the easiest receptacle to program . . . living around the dreamworld . . . Joseph [son of Issac] was not born-again and he was not spirit-filled . . . it [the God-dream] may not be what Oprah wants you to do

The part where you needed to believe that the embalmed guy rose from the dead (and wasn’t part of a not-so-elaborate-because-it’s-Africa-and-the-standard-of-proof-is-lower-hoax) in order to be open to having a “God-dream dropped in to you”, and to thereby do God’s will is. . . uh . . . yeah.

Since the beginning of the project, I had been adamant that we needed to go to an LDS service, because we are in “Mormon Country”– it seemed wrong not to . . . but it was a huge mental hurdle for both of us.  When you’re raised in the evangelical subculture, the Catholics are suspect (they might be Christian, but that “Mary stuff” causes serious pause), and both the LDS and the Jehovah’s Witnesses are definitely considered cults, and one ought never associate with them, unless it’s to convert them to evangelical Christianity. (Evangelicals usually call “uncle” first in these scrambles . . . both the LDS and the JWs come to the fight with more training–and they’re usually there in pairs).

So there we were, Saturday, with only two weeks left in the project, having not attended an LDS service. For a church that is as mission- and conversion- oriented as the LDS, finding out information for attending a service is surprisingly difficult (even finding out the service times is surprisingly hard, as they don’t post them on their church buildings (I know–I’ve looked)). I suspect this is another difference between evangelicals and the LDS: the purpose of evangelical, er, evangelizing is to get people in to church services. In the several months I had LDS missionaries in our home, we were never asked to a service. I think the LDS model is conversion first, church attendance second. (To be fair, evangelicals wish to first bring the person into relationship with Christ, but the invitation to church services is always early in the process).

LDS services have three parts that run about an hour each: The Sacrament Meeting, Sunday School, and Priesthood–Relief Society–Young Men/Women–Primary. We planned only to attend the Sacrament Meeting (we pretty much haven’t attended anyone’s Sunday School or other services/Bible studies, etc.), but the others ended up being canceled because of the weather.

The Visitor’s Guide was immensely useful for preparing to attend the LDS service. Among other things (like what folks usually wear), it included an order of service:

Sacrament meeting begins with a hymn and prayer. Then, the member of the bishopric conducting the meeting addresses the congregation from the pulpit with any necessary business (e.g., announcements, new callings, etc.). Next, the congregation prepares to partake of the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, which is considered the most important spiritual event of the LDS week. By partaking of the Sacrament, baptized members of the Church can gain spiritual renewal by rededicating themselves to following the Savior. While selected members of the priesthood prepare the Sacrament, the congregation sings one of a collection of hymns that pay special tribute to the Savior’s atoning sacrifice.

After the Sacrament, the congregation will normally hear from three speakers speakers previously selected from the congregation. After the second speaker the congregation sings a hymn, informally knows as the “intermediate hymn”.

In the LDS Church, since we have a lay priesthood, we do not listen to the same preacher every week. Instead, members of the congregation take turns speaking. Most active members of the congregation will be asked to speak to the congregation on an assigned gospel topic.

At this point, the congregation has a closing hymn and prayer.

To summarize, the following steps occur in the Sacrament Meeting block: 1) Opening Hymn and Prayer, 2) Congregation Business, 3) Sacrament Hymn and Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, 4) Speakers and 5) Closing Hymn and Prayer.

The LDS celebrate communion with bread (a soft white sandwich bread, neatly cut) and water in teeny cups, that are passed, individually, in trays with large handles like this one through the seated congregation by the young men. I can’t find the link now, but in my reading, I stumbled across a discussion about taking the sacrament with the right hand, and as I think back to watching the service, people picked up the elements with their right, and passed the tray with their left. Although it does not dishonor the LDS for outsiders to take communion, we declined.

As the LDS do celebrate Christmas, many of the hymns we sang were Christmas carols we already know, which was nice, if for no other reason than we’ve often felt really out of place this year, and the familiar is always comfort/able/ing. The speakers spoke on the topics of the birth of John the Baptist, Christmas celebrations, and Mary and the birth of Christ.

Once again, we found ourselves afterward thinking that the service wasn’t “half as weird” as we thought it might be . . . I’m glad for Farmergirl to have had the experiences this year without some of the baggage and biases Michael and I carry. (I’m glad to have her growing up without some of that baggage. Don’t cry at that last sentence, grandparents–it’s less anything any of you did and more just part and parcel of the subculture. We’re probably giving her a whole new set of luggage).

This is a guest column from Our Gra, on the east coast, who attended a “Blue Christmas” service this week. We might could have used one of these for similar reasons last year.

“Blue Christmas” – A Service of Remembrance and Hope
St. Paul’s United Church of Christ, Westminster, Maryland
December 21, 2008

Sometimes loss comes with absolutely no warning — the death of a healthy runner on his treadmill, the grandmother who’s infant grandson was left in a burning apartment, the young mother whose son is killed before her very eyes in a horrible wreck. Sometimes there is warning of the disaster via bad news — “I’m sorry, the test is positive.” Sometimes in thinking back we can see the gradual decline, the change in habits, the loss of memory, the sapping of energy.

Not all losses are deaths. A goodly portion of this country has just lost quite a lot of money. All of us know those who have lost jobs, and are wondering if they can keep their homes. A move away from home can destroy a friendship.

In October of this year my husband “Pappy”, a deacon who went to seminary in his late 50s to be ordained, and I, “Sallygra” [aka Our Gra aka MIL in 52 Churches] were basically dismissed from the tiny church we had labored to start and had loved for the last 10 years. We never saw it coming. No chance for goodbyes, no closure, just a character assassination and the assignment to shape up or to ship out within the next 6 months. To leave a church home where we worshiped as often as 6 times a week and which we have considered our purpose in our “retirement” years has been a death to us.

I don’t know if Jen was simply curious about a “Blue Christmas” service or she was simply tired of hearing the gloominess in my tones, but she strongly urged me to attend this service. I came on my own grief and ended up sitting next to my friend whose grandson had been killed in wreck.

The service was a combined ministry of the UCC church and Carroll Hospice. It was led by the associate pastor and the bereavement coordinator for hospice. We were welcomed and congratulated for having the courage to attend. One of the best lines spoken was, “You can be whatever way you feel here. You do not have to be jolly.” All kinds of losses, not just deaths were acknowledged.

The UCC church in town is committed to being inclusive. “No matter who you are or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here! We are an Open and Affirming Congregation”. They were welcoming in several ways — kleenexes in every pew, seating was in a small intimate chapel with a tree decorated with blue ornaments. There was a Celtic harpist. There was seasonal music. The Randall Thompson “Alleluia” sung after we were encouraged to think of those we loved and missed, was particularly lovely.

Frankly in the presence of griefs that seemed so much greater than mine, I felt that I was whining to be there at all. But since I find this Christmas without a church home one of the more difficult ones I have faced, I was willingly to find healing in whatever way it would come.

We listened to various comments followed by silence after each of the 4 candles of the Advent wreath was lit. “We light this second candle to redeem the pain of loss: the loss of relationships, the loss of jobs, the loss of health. As we gather up the pain of the past, we offer it to You, O God, asking that into our open hands you will place the gift of peace.” Frankly, I have very little peace right now, but that would be a wonderful Christmas present. I did not go to the front as others lit candles for their loved ones, it didn’t seem appropriate. But my heart was certainly with them. I also took with me another prayer printed in the bulletin: “Compassionate God, there are those among us who are grieving over what might have been. A death or loss has changed our experience of Christmas. Once it was a special day for us too, but someone has died or moved away. Or we have lost a job, a dream, a goal, a cause. We find ourselves adrift, alone lost. Loving God, hear our prayer. [Italics mine.]

But there is a company in grieving. There is a solace in those come to encourage the mourning. I wouldn’t have a tree this year, if my loving friends had not insisted upon it. We would both be in much greater grief and confusion expect for the love and support of our children and dear friends. Also I know that while time never erases pain, it often eases it.

So if you are in position of needing a “Blue Christmas” service., I’d encourage you to go. In particular, take someone with you who can listen and perhaps even laugh. The service may help. The fact that you are not alone in your pain will help even more.

P.S. No, The Elvis tune was not played, nor did he appear.

My friend Pat works in an institution back east as artist, visionary, chaplain. As I write this, I realize I don’t know what her actual job title is. It doesn’t matter. You’ll get a good sense of it and her in the following paragraphs. It’s been my great privilege and joy to have known Pat for over a decade. We’ve never met in person . . . such is the internet so magical at bringing people together, but not physically.

Pat invited us to one of their services. (It’s one of the very few we’ve been invited to attend this year — I don’t know what that says about us, or the project, or our friends, or the general state of the church . . . I’ll have to noodle on it).

She knew, of course, that we’re not likely to make it back east to be there in person, so she “took” us “to” it. Here’s the invitation:

I invite you to come to our church.
I believe it would be a mite different
but you’re welcome to be different, too.

We begin whenever everyone gets there.
Yes, there is a set time but you never know if a bus will breakdown,
there is a fire drill, or the sound system goes cafluey.

When we do begin, we begin with sign.
It is a sign for Advent, really.
We open our arms and gesture, “Come, Creator God…be here with us.”

There are very few words in our worship.
Most people can’t talk.
But, we do have music and the good news is told through music.

There is an Offertory but no money is collected.
Instead, everyone offers a thumbprint put to paper.
They give themselves as they have no money.

Then we have a procession.
This is really Prayers of the Faithful.
Everyone, those who can walk,
those in wheelchairs,
those with walkers carry the names
of people who have asked for prayers,
those who have not,
and our country, our world, our cosmos.
We pray for one another when we finally bless each other
and say good-bye till the next time.

She added this, in the original note to a group of women that is our original point of meeting. I include it here, in case you, dear reader, have an idea I can pass on to her (or she can read here).

I’m trying to figure out how those who understand about Eucharist
can actually participate when they are not able to eat regular food.
This has bothered me since I began this ministry.
There are so many who “get it”
but are fed internally and cannot even drink water.
Everything is with a tube.

Maybe you have an idea how best to do this.
There’s got to be a way.

Would Jesus invite all to the table
and then skew it so that 10% of all the people who know him
can’t be part of the wedding feast?

I suspect he wouldn’t.

Just about everyone is trying to rage against the capitalist machine that is Christmas in our nation — from the religious (giving presence, not presents), to DIY crafters (and the homemade movement). I’m not entirely sure how successful anyone is being. I’ve managed to (not yet) buy any “thing” for anyone. (I take that back: I bought Farmergirl a magazine subscription, though I’m not sure this particular one counts more as “homeschooling endeavor” than “Christmas gift”). I have managed to make several handspun-handknit items that I won’t write further here about because the recipients may be reading.

Maybe it’s too small a sample to draw this conclusion, but one of the things that I’ve noticed through the project are the memes that seem to cross denominations. We’ve seen this in “unpacking ideas,” and fill-in the blank sermon notes**, and evangelical critiques of liturgical traditions. The theme of this year’s Christmas season has been slowing down, and being present. (As well as two instances of “unpacking” in this particular sermon, plus three “come to Jesus meeting”s and two “pink elephant in the living room”s. This last one I thought was a mixed metaphor, but apparently the pink elephant variation is just an extension of the regular old elephant in the living room (shared secret that no one’s talking about) and not a shared hallucination that no one’s talking about, which was what I was thinking).

The pastor used the story of Mary and Martha to make his case about slowing down and capturing the moment (“sit” (slow down), “listen” (open up), and “choose what is better” (don’t miss the moment)).

* It wasn’t actually “some” UMC church . . . we just got our wires crossed.  I’d picked out Convenant UMC, but Michael thought we were going to Spokane Valley UMC . . . and we managed to run the clock down before driving out on the icy roads (with the single digit temperatures), so we went to the Valley, instead of up north, as it was closer.

** This set of fill in the blank sermon notes had an extra item that we hadn’t seen before: an answer key. On the back side of the page, labeled “Answer Key” is the list of what should have been filled into the various blanks.

Although we drive past the Veradale United Church of Christ fairly regularly, it didn’t register on our project radar until earlier this year, when we read an article in the local paper about their garden and its supply of produce to the local food bank. Another article, this one about the pastor, Linda Crowe, mentions that she writes a Thanksgiving story and a Christmas story each year. We were in attendance this morning for the latter, which was about a Christmas pageant where the little kids were exasperating the teens who were organizing (“I’m not wearing a dress!”), and, as the teens reflected, church was the place where they were loved despite their exasperating ways, and where they were frequently told they were beloved children of God.

The service has three parts:
We Gather to Praise God (where there was music, the lighting of the second Advent candle, and prayers.
We Listen to God’s Word (where there was reading of the scripture (Psalm 85: 1-2 and 8-13, and Isaiah 40: 1-11 as well a children’s sermon, and the main sermon (which was the story today).
We Act to Show God’s Love (where there were sharing of joys and concerns, corporate prayer, the offertory, hymns, and the Benediction).

This afternoon, they were celebrating the 33rd Annual Plum Pudding Festival, and we were jovially invited by no fewer than five people to attend, and to return to the church. The Veradale UCC was one of the churches we’ve visited this year that excelled in greeting us.