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WE WERE handed bulletins as we entered the door. A quick scan of the handout did little to still my nervousness at being there. Hymns, prayers, readings and such were listed. Strange names like “Kyrie” and “Gloria” stood out. I thought to myself, “Strange worlds these Methodist churches.” This scene occurred some fifty years ago. But my remembrance of that particular occasion endures. Not knowing what else to do back then, I folded the paper once over and put the handout in a pocket within my dark blue sport coat. “Do I look all right?” I asked my young son. Without waiting for an answer, I checked both kids to see that they were still straightened up. I felt just a little out of place. However, my qualms were soon settled a bit because Matthew was there in the lobby waiting. His missus stood smiling widely beside him. I had told them we would come that Sunday. It was my first Methodist church since my teens. Maybe noting my nervousness, she said, “Don’t worry about the bulletin, it’s just a guide to let us know what’s happening next. Sit with us and we’ll help you follow along.” I smiled to Matthew, “I told you I’d come.” He grinned and said nothing. “Can we sit anywhere we want?” I asked while peering down the center aisle of the small church. “Yes you can..,” Matthew said quietly, “but you’ll likely get “old fogie” coughs from a few folks when you try to sit just anyplace. Some people have been coming here so long that they think they own the |
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seat they’re in. For now, just feel welcome to sit with us.” Matthew, a co-worker and neighbor who I had known for several years, seemed like family that morning. He shepherded us toward a pew seat. Once I’d sat down in the seat closest to the aisle; being nosy I looked around a bit. I saw a few youngsters the age of my own, with their parents interspersed amongst the gathering. A choir sat to |
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Doin This Sunday? |
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the side up front. Some middle-aged choir members were chewing the fat. A few women who were much older busily arranged their music. I quickly noted the absence of men in the singing group. I said to Matthew, “Are there men in the choir?” He nodded, “Some… but many of the men in the congregation went away together to a Christian retreat. They’ll be back next week. They belong to our Calvin men’s group.” “I see you’ve gotten a new car.” Matthew said. “Yep, it’s a Mustang”, I said. I deliberately got it for drag racing so I removed the power steering. A big mistake. Every time I turn a corner, I’m building muscles.” He smiled a little, and nodded… “Turning corners can be tough without power, but you sure turned a corner today. That car brought you here and that’s important.” |
