So we set out this cold Sunday morning headed for church. We had two plans in mind, neither of which came to fruition. Instead we ended up wandering through Cambridge looking for a church to attend. Every time we saw a steeple, we would venture a little further along and go up to read their posted worship hours. We were either too early or too late for each church we found.
Finally, we saw a large Baptist Church and decided to go in. I assumed that a Baptist Church in Boston would be similar to a Methodist Church in San Antonio – at least theologically. I was wrong. It was a unique experience that I would neither trade nor repeat.
This congregation’s twin missions were clear within five minutes of our arrival. The whole of the service, worship guide, and interest card spoke of what they considered their identity as a community. They exist for the promotion of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender folks and for reaching out in love to the homeless of Boston. We prayed the prayer “Inspired by Jesus,” it may be almost familiar to you – “Our Father and Mother, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name.”
Though the church was massive, the congregation was small. The inside of the church was decorated like a dance studio. Why you ask? Well, they sublet the sanctuary out during the week to a ballet company. Between that, leasing out their parking lot, and receiving of grants from the historical preservation society they keep their church open. As it happens, I sat next to the church’s treasurer.
The people of the church were sweet as could be. My neighbor, the treasurer, opened his hymnal to the right page and handed it to me every time we were to sing. We were greeted warmly and welcomed with what was clearly authentic joy for our presence among them.
Yet for all that, I couldn’t help think – it matters what you believe. It matters what you believe about Jesus, his heavenly Father, and the work of his Spirit and Church. This line of thought isn’t quite developed enough to flesh out here, but I will work on it.
Hope your Sunday is blest and that you spend some time today with the Creator of all. As always, I missed the good folks of University this morning and became more convinced of the supreme blessing it is to be part of the movement of God’s Spirit blowing new life into the heart of a congregation. This simply isn’t the reality of most of America’s churches and we must never grow complacent or forget how greatly we are blest.
Finally, we saw a large Baptist Church and decided to go in. I assumed that a Baptist Church in Boston would be similar to a Methodist Church in San Antonio – at least theologically. I was wrong. It was a unique experience that I would neither trade nor repeat.
This congregation’s twin missions were clear within five minutes of our arrival. The whole of the service, worship guide, and interest card spoke of what they considered their identity as a community. They exist for the promotion of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender folks and for reaching out in love to the homeless of Boston. We prayed the prayer “Inspired by Jesus,” it may be almost familiar to you – “Our Father and Mother, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name.”
Though the church was massive, the congregation was small. The inside of the church was decorated like a dance studio. Why you ask? Well, they sublet the sanctuary out during the week to a ballet company. Between that, leasing out their parking lot, and receiving of grants from the historical preservation society they keep their church open. As it happens, I sat next to the church’s treasurer.
The people of the church were sweet as could be. My neighbor, the treasurer, opened his hymnal to the right page and handed it to me every time we were to sing. We were greeted warmly and welcomed with what was clearly authentic joy for our presence among them.
Yet for all that, I couldn’t help think – it matters what you believe. It matters what you believe about Jesus, his heavenly Father, and the work of his Spirit and Church. This line of thought isn’t quite developed enough to flesh out here, but I will work on it.
Hope your Sunday is blest and that you spend some time today with the Creator of all. As always, I missed the good folks of University this morning and became more convinced of the supreme blessing it is to be part of the movement of God’s Spirit blowing new life into the heart of a congregation. This simply isn’t the reality of most of America’s churches and we must never grow complacent or forget how greatly we are blest.
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