Relief

My dad has been harassing me for some time now to go to a church that he has been "seeing on the side." (Scandalous.) It's a small UCC church (United Church of Christ) and the woman is a pastor from Seattle or Vancouver. (My father knows this because she prays for the Seattle Seahawks during football season.)

"I know you'll like this church, Kris."
"I don't know, Dad. I've been to a few in the area and the odds aren't in your favor."
"Tomorrow morning? From 9-10? It'll only be for an hour and I'll take you out to lunch."
"Lunch after? Hmmm . . .okay."

So with a bribe of free food, I attended Emmanuel UCC and was THOROUGHLY impressed. I don't even know where to begin. Do I start with the fact that the message was about genuinely loving other people and discerning the differences between judgment and inspiration? Or do I talk about the multi-generational congregation that was eager to participate during the sermon? Oh, and there was the "Emmanuael UCC GREEN SHEET . . .Your guide to Local, Sustainable & Fair Living in the larger Dousman area," with one of the farmers speaking in an adult forum after (to discuss CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture), one of which I will be buying a share in). Maybe it was their affirmation of faith: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One. And we shall love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength. This is the first and great commandment. The second is like it: Love our neighbor as we love ourselves. There is no greater commandment. Amen." Note the emphasis on love, along with the plural language indicating that it is a communal act of love. There is also a discussion group that meets on Thursday nights at one of my favorite coffee shops to explore a weekly article provided by the church. This week's is "Taking the Long View" by Gregory Jones, dean of Duke University Divinity School, and "Biting the Land that Feeds Us" by Jim Scharplaz, a rancher in Kansas. Can I say that I'm in love?

During the service, the pastor sang This Little Light of Mine during part of her message and I started weeping. Even now, I'm tearing up just over remembering it. Man. Maybe I'm ovulating or something. Or maybe I encountered God's love in a church building, which is rare these days. What I like the most about this particular church is that the love doesn't stay in the building, reserved for those who show up on Sundays. They're very community-minded and I think I just might throw myself at them, telling them that they can use me wherever when I'm home between courses. Already I'm interested in volunteering to help organize/distribute the food drop-offs for one of our local CSA farmers . . .maybe I'll start there, meet a farmer, and live happily ever after. Kidding, kidding, though I'm not opposed to life working out that way . . . .

The beauty of it all was that later I could sit with my father, eating ribeye (spelling?) sandwiches and french fries, and discuss fair trade, ecological responsibility, and the latest car he's restoring. And all of that because we attended a church with a pastor who happens to be a woman. In Dousman, of all places.

Ah, the sweet aroma of health. . . .

Good work, Emmanuel UCC! You've restored some hope to this post-seminary church critic.