Other Church

On Sunday, we visited a church that isn't our "home" church. I sang in the Indianapolis Children's Choir as a kid, so I've visited my fair share of churches and synagogues, but I still find visiting a new church to be both entertaining and horrifying.

The church that I grew up in was very conservative. There was a hitching post out front, and the bathroom featured a special dryer for "thy longeth beard." Erin, on the other hand, grew up in slightly less conservative worship environments that featured things like instruments, women and electricity. The diversity in our upbringings always spurs interesting conversations when we attend a new church together.

Sunday morning we pulled into the parking lot and made our way to the front door. Things get tricky for me right off the bat. First off, I had us walk the length of the building in sub zero temperatures to go into an entrance that I thought was near the children's classrooms -- despite there being an indoor, heated walkway that traversed the same path. I did this because I will always risk frost bite over prolonged human interaction. Therefore rather than say, "Hi, my name is Bret, and this IS my first time here" fifty times over the course of 30 feet, I'd rather freeze my ass off, say my greeting once, and follow it up with "Where's the classroom for two year olds?"

We trotted back down the hallway and deposited Grant in his Sunday school classroom. Grant was "the black kid" at Sunday school this week. As usual, there were no tears and hardly a backward glance to make sure we had agreed to return to pick him up. Grant just headed for the nearest group of kids and began playing gleefully. I'm glad he's so social. It makes life much easier. I always dread working in the toddler room at church and having to deal with the two year old who screams and removes various pieces of their parent's clothing as they get dropped off in the classroom. That's always delightful.

Erin and I headed for the main sanctuary and carefully chose a seat a few rows from the back. About 30 seconds after sitting down, the door greeter tracked us down and provided us with some reading material about the church. To be fair, he was one of the better church greeters I've encountered, despite finding us twice within our first few minutes in the building. He was kind, not pushy, and provided me with some genuinely useful information.

Worship time at a new church is always full of questions. Will I know any of the songs? Can I pass on the collection plate without getting a scowl from some old lady who doesn't realize we're new? Will everyone suddenly kneel without warning? Will there be any live animals involved? Is there enough padding on this seat to keep parts of me from getting all numb and tingly, but not so much as to put me to sleep?

The service at this particular location was pretty typical. At one point, the lights did go dim and then completely off for a few seconds for no apparent reason. I took it as the "2 minute warning" and luckily, I was pretty much on target.

During the invitation song, several couples made their way to the front of the sanctuary. At my church growing up, if you made your way down front during the invitation, there was either a body in the trunk of your car, or you fornicated with an elder’s wife out back during a pot luck. You didn't go forward because you wanted prayer about an upcoming medical test or your grant aunt Edna had a growth on her neck. At this new church, you had to go forward if you wanted to become a member of their congregation. I found this interesting, although I was disappointed that I didn't get to witness a public shaming of one sort or another.

All in all, I enjoyed our experience, and I think it's good to see what other churches have to offer on occasion. If there had been one, I might have stuck around for a pitch-in. Casseroles and desserts often say more about a church than a sermon.