12.02.2007
My Visit to First Christian Church - Houston
This week, I visited First Christian Church in Houston. Click here for a link to my blog entry!
11.26.2007
My Visit to First Methodist Church, Houston
Last Sunday, I visited First United Methodist Church in downtown Houston. You can read about my experience by clicking here.
11.21.2007
A Visit to a Church of Christ
I had a lot assumptions about what to expect at a Church of Christ worship service. And most of them were way off! Read my post and see what surprised me by clicking here!
My Visit to Christ the King Presbyterian . . .
I recently stopped by Christ the King Presbyterian Church, a new church that is meeting on a college campus. You can read about my visit by clicking here. . .
10.28.2007
10.22.2007
My Visit to The Table at Chapelwood United Methodist Church
I recently visited a unique worship service called "The Table." You can read about my experience by clicking here.
10.14.2007
Come visit my new site!
Dear Faithful Readers (all two of you!) --
I have officially moved over to the religion page of the Houston Chronicle. Visit me by clicking here and clicking on my latest blog entry. You can post your comments there and/or send me a message.
I have officially moved over to the religion page of the Houston Chronicle. Visit me by clicking here and clicking on my latest blog entry. You can post your comments there and/or send me a message.
10.07.2007
My Visit on Sunday, October 7
Today's visit resulted from the request of a friend. A musician friend of mine was playing in a hired orchestra during worship today at Fine Arts Episcopal Church. Of course that isn't their name, but they do have a commitment to the "finer" things (I mean -- they hired an entire orchestra for not just one Sunday, but the whole month!). Regardless, I enjoyed the chance to take-in a little Christ and culture. (H. Richard Niebuhr would be proud!)
The stained glass windows in this church are dense and lasting. Functioning like the regal Byzantine icons of Constantinople, the four colorful panels burrow their straightforward images deep into my mind so that I can still call them to my consciousness even hours later. An accepting Christ, bidding followers to eat. A despondent Christ, carrying a cross. Christ resigned, praying in the garden. And Christ jubilant, ascending.
The real is treat is turning around the see the full spectrum of color in the rear window above the balcony. There stands the mysterious author of the bible's final and most vivid book. I can't begin to describe it. But rest assured, the window is as detailed and rich and complex as the subject himself. I think he would be proud. My only regret is that all the pews face front, so you don't see this window until you walk out.
The people were friendly, though far from outgoing. I get the feeling that a consistent visitor could stay anonymous here for months, which may be the approach they aim for. There's no pushiness (come on, they're Episcopalians!) and that's a good thing.
I took delight in watching the deacon prepare the bread and cup for the Eucharist. We were all singing our hymn while he uncovered the tableware and laid out the elements with the precision of a blackjack dealer.
I was grateful to be with them and to overhear the beautiful music they employ to announce their praise to God.
And if I do go back, I'm going to take my own lawn chair and placing right in the aisle facing the rear of the sanctuary . . .
The stained glass windows in this church are dense and lasting. Functioning like the regal Byzantine icons of Constantinople, the four colorful panels burrow their straightforward images deep into my mind so that I can still call them to my consciousness even hours later. An accepting Christ, bidding followers to eat. A despondent Christ, carrying a cross. Christ resigned, praying in the garden. And Christ jubilant, ascending.
The real is treat is turning around the see the full spectrum of color in the rear window above the balcony. There stands the mysterious author of the bible's final and most vivid book. I can't begin to describe it. But rest assured, the window is as detailed and rich and complex as the subject himself. I think he would be proud. My only regret is that all the pews face front, so you don't see this window until you walk out.
The people were friendly, though far from outgoing. I get the feeling that a consistent visitor could stay anonymous here for months, which may be the approach they aim for. There's no pushiness (come on, they're Episcopalians!) and that's a good thing.
I took delight in watching the deacon prepare the bread and cup for the Eucharist. We were all singing our hymn while he uncovered the tableware and laid out the elements with the precision of a blackjack dealer.
I was grateful to be with them and to overhear the beautiful music they employ to announce their praise to God.
And if I do go back, I'm going to take my own lawn chair and placing right in the aisle facing the rear of the sanctuary . . .
10.01.2007
My Visit on Sunday, September 30
I did my homework before visiting this week's church. I went to Edge-of-Downtown Baptist Church's website on Saturday to find out what to expect.
I downloaded the newsletter and checked the calendar and was disappointed to not see anything about the upcoming sermon. (Usually in churches, when the upcoming sermon isn't publicized, it means there is a guest preacher. Its a little trick we preachers pull because we generally assume that attendance will be lighter if people know in advance that there will be a guest in the pulpit. I did, however, make the painful discovery at my last church that that rule doesn't really hold up. On several occasions, MORE people would come to hear the guest preachers! I don't get it. . . what could that POSSIBLY mean?!!)
Well anyway, I had heard of Edge-of-Downtown's fantastic music program, so I figured it was worth it to make the trip anyway. The church is all of about 6 blocks from my house, so in the event that the guest preacher was horrible, I could still make it home in time for the Texans noon kickoff and the morning would be recovered.
Turns out, the preacher WAS there after all -- and it was a wonderful sermon -- and I didn't need to make the embarrassing "11:45 kickoff sneak-away." The sermon was gracious and relevant, and I could tell he was saying some things that his particular congregation needed to hear. (Hearing a sermon as a "congregational outsider" is like reading one of Paul's letters and trying to diagnose the "issues" Paul was trying to address at Corinth, or Galatia, etc. I'm always wondering what the congregational concern is: budget? outreach? lack of vision? lack of identity?)
I think my only significant disappointment with worship was what happened at the very beginning. After a beautiful organ prelude, a kindly older gentleman, who I think was on staff, walked to the pulpit. The stage was set, a beautiful old sanctuary, deep blue stained glass windows, a hushed congregation, hungry for a word. "Here it comes," I thought, "the opening words of worship -- an invitation, a blessing, a challenge, a prayer. . ." Instead, he delivered the announcements.
Sad. He had such a great presence and a beautiful voice. And I imagine he was just doing what had been done in that worship service for years: starting the hour with the "business of the family." He thanked a family for a memorial gift, he mentioned the church's apartment ministry, he pointed out the roses on the chancel. All of this could have been written in the bulletin -- all I wanted to hear him say was "Rejoice in the Lord always! Again I say, rejoice!"
How important those first few spoken words are in worship! Whoever says them -- they are breaking a week's worth of congregational silence to offer the first words of delight and praise to the Creator. There is surely a place for announcements (a couple of them maybe!), but not as the first words of praise that form on the lips.
We did recover and I was delighted to be soon be singing some old favorites (hymns by Fanny Crosby and Charles Wesley) with a congregation that enjoys its singing. We were led by a spirited man (probably the music minister) in the front of the church who I could only assume was a man who deeply loved his job (his enormous grin gave that away). He was loving every minute of it -- and why shouldn't he? His joy seemed contagious and my worshiping companions and I sang all louder and more gleefully because of it.
The highlight was at the end of the hour. When some new members joined, there was a quick introduction of them: one was a boy making his public pledge of trust, two others were soon to be married. But after they were introduced, I listened as the congregation spoke in unison a few words that were printed in the bulletin. It began with, "We pledge ourselves to be the family of God for you. . ."
I love that! Walking down the aisle to join a church is a very hard decision, and so it makes sense for that tough moment to be met with an equally-challenging pledge for the congregation. They may not have realized, but that church is pledging to do something very difficult. "To pledge ourselves to be the family of God for you..." Wow! Those new members are in for a treat!
This church knows grace. They were welcoming of me and (more importantly) as I looked around, they welcomed with open arms the people of various races, socio-economic classes and life situations. In their geographic setting at the edge of downtown, that is extremely important.
A final word: in a couple of places on their website, I noticed what this church says about how to dress on Sunday morning. Its something to the effect of: We honor God by wearing our best. I think the main reason for that is to manage my expectations as a visitor . . . so that when I arrive and see everyone dressed-up, I am not surprised. But I wish they wouldn't do that. I think it is making a big deal (OK, a "moderate deal") out of nothing.
I have visited several churches in the last few weeks and out of all of them, this church was the most casual in terms of how people dressed. And it works -- people look comfortable. They might dress up, but for some people, even their nicest suit isn't brand new or the latest fashion. Of all the churches I have visited on this blog, the people at this church (refreshingly) had the least pretension about how they were dressed and how they appeared to other people.
Now if they can just find a way to communicate THAT on their website. . .
I downloaded the newsletter and checked the calendar and was disappointed to not see anything about the upcoming sermon. (Usually in churches, when the upcoming sermon isn't publicized, it means there is a guest preacher. Its a little trick we preachers pull because we generally assume that attendance will be lighter if people know in advance that there will be a guest in the pulpit. I did, however, make the painful discovery at my last church that that rule doesn't really hold up. On several occasions, MORE people would come to hear the guest preachers! I don't get it. . . what could that POSSIBLY mean?!!)
Well anyway, I had heard of Edge-of-Downtown's fantastic music program, so I figured it was worth it to make the trip anyway. The church is all of about 6 blocks from my house, so in the event that the guest preacher was horrible, I could still make it home in time for the Texans noon kickoff and the morning would be recovered.
Turns out, the preacher WAS there after all -- and it was a wonderful sermon -- and I didn't need to make the embarrassing "11:45 kickoff sneak-away." The sermon was gracious and relevant, and I could tell he was saying some things that his particular congregation needed to hear. (Hearing a sermon as a "congregational outsider" is like reading one of Paul's letters and trying to diagnose the "issues" Paul was trying to address at Corinth, or Galatia, etc. I'm always wondering what the congregational concern is: budget? outreach? lack of vision? lack of identity?)
I think my only significant disappointment with worship was what happened at the very beginning. After a beautiful organ prelude, a kindly older gentleman, who I think was on staff, walked to the pulpit. The stage was set, a beautiful old sanctuary, deep blue stained glass windows, a hushed congregation, hungry for a word. "Here it comes," I thought, "the opening words of worship -- an invitation, a blessing, a challenge, a prayer. . ." Instead, he delivered the announcements.
Sad. He had such a great presence and a beautiful voice. And I imagine he was just doing what had been done in that worship service for years: starting the hour with the "business of the family." He thanked a family for a memorial gift, he mentioned the church's apartment ministry, he pointed out the roses on the chancel. All of this could have been written in the bulletin -- all I wanted to hear him say was "Rejoice in the Lord always! Again I say, rejoice!"
How important those first few spoken words are in worship! Whoever says them -- they are breaking a week's worth of congregational silence to offer the first words of delight and praise to the Creator. There is surely a place for announcements (a couple of them maybe!), but not as the first words of praise that form on the lips.
We did recover and I was delighted to be soon be singing some old favorites (hymns by Fanny Crosby and Charles Wesley) with a congregation that enjoys its singing. We were led by a spirited man (probably the music minister) in the front of the church who I could only assume was a man who deeply loved his job (his enormous grin gave that away). He was loving every minute of it -- and why shouldn't he? His joy seemed contagious and my worshiping companions and I sang all louder and more gleefully because of it.
The highlight was at the end of the hour. When some new members joined, there was a quick introduction of them: one was a boy making his public pledge of trust, two others were soon to be married. But after they were introduced, I listened as the congregation spoke in unison a few words that were printed in the bulletin. It began with, "We pledge ourselves to be the family of God for you. . ."
I love that! Walking down the aisle to join a church is a very hard decision, and so it makes sense for that tough moment to be met with an equally-challenging pledge for the congregation. They may not have realized, but that church is pledging to do something very difficult. "To pledge ourselves to be the family of God for you..." Wow! Those new members are in for a treat!
This church knows grace. They were welcoming of me and (more importantly) as I looked around, they welcomed with open arms the people of various races, socio-economic classes and life situations. In their geographic setting at the edge of downtown, that is extremely important.
A final word: in a couple of places on their website, I noticed what this church says about how to dress on Sunday morning. Its something to the effect of: We honor God by wearing our best. I think the main reason for that is to manage my expectations as a visitor . . . so that when I arrive and see everyone dressed-up, I am not surprised. But I wish they wouldn't do that. I think it is making a big deal (OK, a "moderate deal") out of nothing.
I have visited several churches in the last few weeks and out of all of them, this church was the most casual in terms of how people dressed. And it works -- people look comfortable. They might dress up, but for some people, even their nicest suit isn't brand new or the latest fashion. Of all the churches I have visited on this blog, the people at this church (refreshingly) had the least pretension about how they were dressed and how they appeared to other people.
Now if they can just find a way to communicate THAT on their website. . .
9.23.2007
My Visit on Sunday, September 23
Feeling a need to get back to my roots, I attended a Presbyterian Church today. I attended Deep-in-the-Urban-Woods Presbyterian Church. And I'm grateful I did.
Actually a friend in Iowa (of all places) suggested I attend -- he's heard of the church and its good works and wanted me to check it out.
I say "going back to my roots" for two reasons. My denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), was founded by a couple of Presbyterians -- New Light, Anti-Berger, Seceder Presbyterians to be precise. (That was a few years before the Presbyterians largely merged, and how grateful we are to God for THAT merger -- can you imagine how big these church signs would have been?!)
But for a more personal reason, my maternal family roots go back to a Presbyterian Church in the Midwest. I don't think my mom's family was particularly active in the church, but I was curious to see what might have drawn them to the Presbies.
I attended the 9:45 "contemporary" service. Now I must say that I loathe the ubiquitous terms "contemporary" and "traditional" when it comes to using them as descriptors for worship. They seem to work in "churchy settings" as short-hand monikers, but they are hardly creative and they evoke no emotion (except when lobbed out of the foxholes of a congregation at war -- one where members see "contemporary" and "traditional" as battle lines to be defended).
Isn't all worship traditional? It is something that is rooted deep in history -- regardless of the songs that are sung and the scriptures that are read. And isn't all worship contemporary? It is happening today -- using words and symbols of this time and place to communicate theological concepts and invite people into a living relationship that happens now.
*Steps off soapbox*
OK, back to this beautiful experience I found this morning.
Music = exceptional. You may recall that I attend another large congregation a few weeks ago -- August 26, I think. And the music certainly matched the quality of that mega-, mega-church. My only wish was that the congregation had been singing. I think some of them were, maybe in the front -- but I sat about halfway back in the center and the folks near me remained quiet. There may have been some holy humming; but with a great band like that, these folks should feel free to sing their hearts out. I later found out that today's music was lead by a fairly new staff member, but I never would have known -- he was very talented and calm in front of the large crowd.
Equally calm (yet appropriately peppy for an upbeat hour of worship) was the Executive Pastor who opened the worship service. With a faint Kevin Spacey-resemblance, he welcomed us to the church and then did something I've never seen during church "announcement time" before. He introduced a special guest from the denomination, but instead of simply turning over the microphone to the guest speaker for (what is often) a boring 5-minute appeal, the Spacey-esque emcee stayed on stage and led a Larry King-style Q&A with the man. It was an engaging, creative, relevant way to let the guest say what he needed to say and still keep the congregation from zoning out. Why aren't more church announcements done like this!?
The sermon was what I expected it to be at this church: outstanding! I've known about the preacher's creativity and "relate-ability" (is that a word?!) for a while and was delighted to finally hear him. He was funny, real and self-effacing (particularly when his brain went blank and he admitted to needing his "cheat sheet" tucked safely inside the back cover of this bible).
Finally, a note about congregation's obvious commitment to community and global outreach. They had banners hanging on either side of the chancel with impressive statistics about the church's investments in both local and international social concerns. They take it seriously and it shows. In most church newsletters, there are lots of opportunities listed to volunteer at the church. In this church's newsletter, those church volunteer jobs are listed, but I noticed even more opportunities to volunteer in the community -- school tutoring, cooking meals, renovating homes, reading to kids. This is clearly a church that sees itself as existing not for itself. And that's a tough thing for many churches to remember.
Actually a friend in Iowa (of all places) suggested I attend -- he's heard of the church and its good works and wanted me to check it out.
I say "going back to my roots" for two reasons. My denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), was founded by a couple of Presbyterians -- New Light, Anti-Berger, Seceder Presbyterians to be precise. (That was a few years before the Presbyterians largely merged, and how grateful we are to God for THAT merger -- can you imagine how big these church signs would have been?!)
But for a more personal reason, my maternal family roots go back to a Presbyterian Church in the Midwest. I don't think my mom's family was particularly active in the church, but I was curious to see what might have drawn them to the Presbies.
I attended the 9:45 "contemporary" service. Now I must say that I loathe the ubiquitous terms "contemporary" and "traditional" when it comes to using them as descriptors for worship. They seem to work in "churchy settings" as short-hand monikers, but they are hardly creative and they evoke no emotion (except when lobbed out of the foxholes of a congregation at war -- one where members see "contemporary" and "traditional" as battle lines to be defended).
Isn't all worship traditional? It is something that is rooted deep in history -- regardless of the songs that are sung and the scriptures that are read. And isn't all worship contemporary? It is happening today -- using words and symbols of this time and place to communicate theological concepts and invite people into a living relationship that happens now.
*Steps off soapbox*
OK, back to this beautiful experience I found this morning.
Music = exceptional. You may recall that I attend another large congregation a few weeks ago -- August 26, I think. And the music certainly matched the quality of that mega-, mega-church. My only wish was that the congregation had been singing. I think some of them were, maybe in the front -- but I sat about halfway back in the center and the folks near me remained quiet. There may have been some holy humming; but with a great band like that, these folks should feel free to sing their hearts out. I later found out that today's music was lead by a fairly new staff member, but I never would have known -- he was very talented and calm in front of the large crowd.
Equally calm (yet appropriately peppy for an upbeat hour of worship) was the Executive Pastor who opened the worship service. With a faint Kevin Spacey-resemblance, he welcomed us to the church and then did something I've never seen during church "announcement time" before. He introduced a special guest from the denomination, but instead of simply turning over the microphone to the guest speaker for (what is often) a boring 5-minute appeal, the Spacey-esque emcee stayed on stage and led a Larry King-style Q&A with the man. It was an engaging, creative, relevant way to let the guest say what he needed to say and still keep the congregation from zoning out. Why aren't more church announcements done like this!?
The sermon was what I expected it to be at this church: outstanding! I've known about the preacher's creativity and "relate-ability" (is that a word?!) for a while and was delighted to finally hear him. He was funny, real and self-effacing (particularly when his brain went blank and he admitted to needing his "cheat sheet" tucked safely inside the back cover of this bible).
Finally, a note about congregation's obvious commitment to community and global outreach. They had banners hanging on either side of the chancel with impressive statistics about the church's investments in both local and international social concerns. They take it seriously and it shows. In most church newsletters, there are lots of opportunities listed to volunteer at the church. In this church's newsletter, those church volunteer jobs are listed, but I noticed even more opportunities to volunteer in the community -- school tutoring, cooking meals, renovating homes, reading to kids. This is clearly a church that sees itself as existing not for itself. And that's a tough thing for many churches to remember.
9.17.2007
My Visit on Sunday, September 16
My travels took me to the heart of the arts district for worship this morning. I confess that I chose the church because I really wanted to wander through the art museum after worship. At least I had my priorities in the right order!
I learned right away that you don't want to get to this church too early. I arrived about 20 minutes before the start of their 11:00 service. When I walked up to the main entrance, I saw a handful of people standing on the steps outside the front door. I overheard someone saying that the first service wasn't over yet and we shouldn't go in. I went in anyway.
They indeed were singing the final hymn, so I knew it wouldn't be long and I walked up to the balcony to take-in the architecture. It was beautiful. The walls were stone and plaster and ceiling was wood, with a curious antique finish. The chancel was wood carved and stained glass windows were detailed and colorful. My only disappointment was the "chief" of the stained glass windows.
There in the front of the sanctuary, high above all the chancel decoration was the rose window -- the focal point of the architecture. And it was a small stained glass portrait of that 20th-century image of Jesus kneeling on a rock and praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. You the one -- its overused and well beyond cliche in many American churches. I know its familiar and that is why people like it. But for the rose window, I wish this church would have been more creative and bold.
I took my seat and noticed the faces around me. A good intergenerational mix and I was pleased to see it. They care for people at all ages and stages and it shows. I smiled at the older faces I saw -- these weren't your typical Texas-church-blue-haireds. One woman had giant bright red rims on her glasses (did I say they were huge?!) Several of the older gents had long wavy silver hair and stylish sportcoats -- I pictured them driving away in their convertibles. This was an arts crowd. More Montrose, less West U.
Still, they were a friendly lot and I appreciated their spiritual company on a Sunday morning. And later, at the art museum, I appreciated the spiritual company of old friends like Alexander Calder, Henri Matisse and Joan Miro.
I learned right away that you don't want to get to this church too early. I arrived about 20 minutes before the start of their 11:00 service. When I walked up to the main entrance, I saw a handful of people standing on the steps outside the front door. I overheard someone saying that the first service wasn't over yet and we shouldn't go in. I went in anyway.
They indeed were singing the final hymn, so I knew it wouldn't be long and I walked up to the balcony to take-in the architecture. It was beautiful. The walls were stone and plaster and ceiling was wood, with a curious antique finish. The chancel was wood carved and stained glass windows were detailed and colorful. My only disappointment was the "chief" of the stained glass windows.
There in the front of the sanctuary, high above all the chancel decoration was the rose window -- the focal point of the architecture. And it was a small stained glass portrait of that 20th-century image of Jesus kneeling on a rock and praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. You the one -- its overused and well beyond cliche in many American churches. I know its familiar and that is why people like it. But for the rose window, I wish this church would have been more creative and bold.
I took my seat and noticed the faces around me. A good intergenerational mix and I was pleased to see it. They care for people at all ages and stages and it shows. I smiled at the older faces I saw -- these weren't your typical Texas-church-blue-haireds. One woman had giant bright red rims on her glasses (did I say they were huge?!) Several of the older gents had long wavy silver hair and stylish sportcoats -- I pictured them driving away in their convertibles. This was an arts crowd. More Montrose, less West U.
Still, they were a friendly lot and I appreciated their spiritual company on a Sunday morning. And later, at the art museum, I appreciated the spiritual company of old friends like Alexander Calder, Henri Matisse and Joan Miro.
My Visit on Sunday, September 9
I went to the early service at a moderately-sized county seat church today. I learned that the early at a moderated-sized county seat church is a small group of people. These are likely the golfers, the farmers and anyone else who believes in "getting church done early so I can do what I want to do for the rest of the day." Because of that, there weren't many who stayed long to chat over coffee once the final prayer was spoken, but they were a friendly group.
In the final moments of worship, the minister challenged us to "shake 12 hands before you leave today." I cold tell it was something he said every week. At first I thought, "Geez, 12?! That's a lot." But with everyone trying to do the same, it was actually kind of a nice thing. Because of that, I met several people -- not just the engraved-name-tag-wearing "official" greeters, but the regular mom and pops, too.
At one point in the service, they invited all the visitors to find the little visitor cards in the pockets on the back of the pew. Following instructions, I found one and it had the little sticker in the shape of a cross on it that I was supposed to wear. (Why do church's think visitors want to wear these things?!) The guy in front of me turned around and saw that I was looking at the card and he said, "Don't put the sticker on, it will leave a mark on your shirt for a long time." I appreciated his word of caution and I slid it back into the pew pocket relieved.
In the final moments of worship, the minister challenged us to "shake 12 hands before you leave today." I cold tell it was something he said every week. At first I thought, "Geez, 12?! That's a lot." But with everyone trying to do the same, it was actually kind of a nice thing. Because of that, I met several people -- not just the engraved-name-tag-wearing "official" greeters, but the regular mom and pops, too.
At one point in the service, they invited all the visitors to find the little visitor cards in the pockets on the back of the pew. Following instructions, I found one and it had the little sticker in the shape of a cross on it that I was supposed to wear. (Why do church's think visitors want to wear these things?!) The guy in front of me turned around and saw that I was looking at the card and he said, "Don't put the sticker on, it will leave a mark on your shirt for a long time." I appreciated his word of caution and I slid it back into the pew pocket relieved.
8.29.2007
Another Visit on Sunday, August 26
I decided to visit a second church on Sunday. This was an afternoon worship service. A much more casual service than the one I attended in the morning.
This church encourages coffee in the sanctuary -- I opted for a sparkling water, but took my beverage with me as I entered the worship hall. I was met by a crowd of people who were younger than me. (Admittedly an odd thing for a church!) The whole congregation was younger than me -- maybe an average age of 24, perhaps a little older if you count the pastor.
The pastor in in his older 3os. Maybe a little older, but he looks young and hip. He speaks with a soft, uncertain tone. Its refreshing. Too many preachers are too certain. I don't remember anything he said, but I remember feeling a sense of grace and acceptance. Maybe that is sermon enough.
I appreciated that they made a point of saying, "the time of offering is for our regulars only - we do not ask visitors to contribute." More churches should make a point of saying that every week. In fact, because they said that, I felt more willing to give.
Attending here was like a fresh breeze -- they not be doing everything by the book, but its encouraging to see a congregation experimenting with the "what ifs" instead of managing the "shoulds."
This church encourages coffee in the sanctuary -- I opted for a sparkling water, but took my beverage with me as I entered the worship hall. I was met by a crowd of people who were younger than me. (Admittedly an odd thing for a church!) The whole congregation was younger than me -- maybe an average age of 24, perhaps a little older if you count the pastor.
The pastor in in his older 3os. Maybe a little older, but he looks young and hip. He speaks with a soft, uncertain tone. Its refreshing. Too many preachers are too certain. I don't remember anything he said, but I remember feeling a sense of grace and acceptance. Maybe that is sermon enough.
I appreciated that they made a point of saying, "the time of offering is for our regulars only - we do not ask visitors to contribute." More churches should make a point of saying that every week. In fact, because they said that, I felt more willing to give.
Attending here was like a fresh breeze -- they not be doing everything by the book, but its encouraging to see a congregation experimenting with the "what ifs" instead of managing the "shoulds."
8.26.2007
My Visit on Sunday, August 26
"Good morning, we're glad you're here." "Good Morning. God bless you." "Hi there, its nice to see you."
Three people greeted me within the first 30 seconds of my visit at today's church. And they all smiled! (I’m not sure, but I think they may have actually meant what they said, too!) It was a nice treat after the 15-minute traffic jam I endured just to get into one of the church's parking garages.
This isn't a small church. They manage to "compaq-t" a lot of people into the building.
Worship was lively and held to a high standard of quality. I was grateful to find a church that knows the importance of quality when it comes to music. I know a lot of churches where "little Johnny" gets to play his clarinet for worship whenever he wants to. (Alright, I'll be honest: I was little Johnny in my home church.) But I've learned that nothing leads people closer to the heart of God than excellent music in worship. There are exceptions to that rule: I realize that nothing feeds little Johnny's ego (or, at that age, my ego) like getting to perform in church...but when worship becomes a congregation's show-and-tell time (forgetting the importance of music quality), its time for some focus-adjustment.
A church's architecture can also either carry someone close to God -- or leave them with a sense of his distance. A church's facility says a lot about what it values. I was sad that there wasn't a cross anywhere in the worship hall. Maybe that's intentional. Maybe its not. Maybe it is left out because it reflects the saddest part of the Christian story. Maybe its too confusing a symbol. I don't know why it’s not in there. But I do know that I miss not seeing it when I worship.
I do know there was a giant illuminated American flag positioned above the rear of the worship hall . . . Hmm, a big flag and no cross . . . I’m not sure why that decision was made.
All things considered, this church exceeded my expectations. I have heard other people talk of visiting this church -- with reports both favorable and unfavorable. I wanted to experience it for myself -- and apparently a lot of other people do, too. I’m glad I went. It was a good example of what happens when a lot of attention – and resources – are given to worship planning.
Three people greeted me within the first 30 seconds of my visit at today's church. And they all smiled! (I’m not sure, but I think they may have actually meant what they said, too!) It was a nice treat after the 15-minute traffic jam I endured just to get into one of the church's parking garages.
This isn't a small church. They manage to "compaq-t" a lot of people into the building.
Worship was lively and held to a high standard of quality. I was grateful to find a church that knows the importance of quality when it comes to music. I know a lot of churches where "little Johnny" gets to play his clarinet for worship whenever he wants to. (Alright, I'll be honest: I was little Johnny in my home church.) But I've learned that nothing leads people closer to the heart of God than excellent music in worship. There are exceptions to that rule: I realize that nothing feeds little Johnny's ego (or, at that age, my ego) like getting to perform in church...but when worship becomes a congregation's show-and-tell time (forgetting the importance of music quality), its time for some focus-adjustment.
A church's architecture can also either carry someone close to God -- or leave them with a sense of his distance. A church's facility says a lot about what it values. I was sad that there wasn't a cross anywhere in the worship hall. Maybe that's intentional. Maybe its not. Maybe it is left out because it reflects the saddest part of the Christian story. Maybe its too confusing a symbol. I don't know why it’s not in there. But I do know that I miss not seeing it when I worship.
I do know there was a giant illuminated American flag positioned above the rear of the worship hall . . . Hmm, a big flag and no cross . . . I’m not sure why that decision was made.
All things considered, this church exceeded my expectations. I have heard other people talk of visiting this church -- with reports both favorable and unfavorable. I wanted to experience it for myself -- and apparently a lot of other people do, too. I’m glad I went. It was a good example of what happens when a lot of attention – and resources – are given to worship planning.
8.19.2007
My visit on Sunday, August 19
This Sunday, I was in the mood for pipes -- big pipes! -- so I went to St. Pipe Organ Episcopal Church. I knew I was going to worship among Houston's high society, so I dressed up. The parking lot was full and I couldn't find the "visitor parking" lot. So if it was there, it wasn't marked well.
Turns out it was the minister's final Sunday before retirement. No wonder there was a crowd! (Nothing turns out a crowd like a "Wonder-what-the-minister-will-say" sermon.) An added bonus was that they were asking us to fill out nametags. Apparently it was not a regular feature at this church. I chuckled when I overheard the older, gentlelady behind me say, "Does this mean we have to wear nametags every Sunday?" Her question was innocent enough, but there was something behind it... (Why do church people find nametags such a nuisance?)
The sermon was alright -- its what you would expect from a minister that close to retirement. But the music! O the music! Beautiful! Awe-inspiring! As a tribute to their beloved pastor, the choir presented something of a "greatest hits" of (I'm assuming ) his favorite hymns and anthems. It was a very stirring orchestration -- like a soundtrack written just for that moment and that place in history.
There was a moment of "passing the peace" and I got scared when I saw the elderly couple seated in front of me turn to kiss. ("Wow! They really pass the peace," I thought) Thankfully, the old man on my left and the old woman on my right opted for a genteel, Southern handshake. (You know, the limp kind.)
The people were friendly enough. Not bad for upper-crust Episcopalians. I stayed planted on my pew cushion until the rousing end of the organ postlude. I thought it was obvious that I was trying to hear the grand finale, but a very noisy, chatty couple came and sat right beside me and talked through to the last, resonating note. (I guess all the other pews were too empty for them to sit in and talk.)
This church gets an A- for the overall experience because of the stunning music and attention to detail. C+ for their treatment of visitors. But I'm grateful to overhear and witness this congregation's affection for and gratitude their retiring rector.
Turns out it was the minister's final Sunday before retirement. No wonder there was a crowd! (Nothing turns out a crowd like a "Wonder-what-the-minister-will-say" sermon.) An added bonus was that they were asking us to fill out nametags. Apparently it was not a regular feature at this church. I chuckled when I overheard the older, gentlelady behind me say, "Does this mean we have to wear nametags every Sunday?" Her question was innocent enough, but there was something behind it... (Why do church people find nametags such a nuisance?)
The sermon was alright -- its what you would expect from a minister that close to retirement. But the music! O the music! Beautiful! Awe-inspiring! As a tribute to their beloved pastor, the choir presented something of a "greatest hits" of (I'm assuming ) his favorite hymns and anthems. It was a very stirring orchestration -- like a soundtrack written just for that moment and that place in history.
There was a moment of "passing the peace" and I got scared when I saw the elderly couple seated in front of me turn to kiss. ("Wow! They really pass the peace," I thought) Thankfully, the old man on my left and the old woman on my right opted for a genteel, Southern handshake. (You know, the limp kind.)
The people were friendly enough. Not bad for upper-crust Episcopalians. I stayed planted on my pew cushion until the rousing end of the organ postlude. I thought it was obvious that I was trying to hear the grand finale, but a very noisy, chatty couple came and sat right beside me and talked through to the last, resonating note. (I guess all the other pews were too empty for them to sit in and talk.)
This church gets an A- for the overall experience because of the stunning music and attention to detail. C+ for their treatment of visitors. But I'm grateful to overhear and witness this congregation's affection for and gratitude their retiring rector.
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