Faith Works 6-23-18

Faith Works 6-23-18

Jeff Gill

 

Taking a break, making connections

___

 

We're in a stretch of the longest days of the year, the shortest nights. Summer began Thursday, and for a few days we get over 15 hours of daylight.

 

Add in an hour of dawn and an hour of twilight, and you have no more than seven hours of darkness. The long evenings are the heart of what most of us think about as summertime.

 

Sunday mornings the sun usually long precedes even our early activities. I get used to leaving for church in the starry dark much of winter, but now the sun is rising as I'm heading out.

 

But sometime soon I'll be on vacation, on the road. A number of roads, even!

 

I like going to church on the road. Worship is not something I take a break from; on vacation, I still breath and eat and circulate my bloodstream, so I don't see summertime as an interval when I pause in giving thanks, in seeking God. It's all a part of me, and a part I can cultivate and develop and grow.

 

Yes, I'm a parish pastor, so there's a practical side to these visits, not only spirituality. I learn from other congregations, different services, various locations. In amphitheaters in national parks, resort community meeting halls, churches on out of the way roads.

 

Sometimes, I learn that I'm glad my church does what it does, and am glad we worship as we do. Other times, I pick up a hint or a clue or some idea I can take home and try here in Licking County.

 

Not many years ago, I got up and snuck out of a hotel when my traveling party was sleeping in after a long night before, ducking into a nearby church. They weren't sorry I came, they weren't happy to see me. I felt . . . invisible. I thought "this is a great learning opportunity in how NOT to welcome a visitor!"

 

And on my way out, a member trotted down the path towards the parking lot to intercept me, to apologize. It was the darndest experience. She wanted to apologize for how everyone treated me in the post-service melee in the aisle and narthex (I had tried to greet the pastor, looked around to be sociable, and after staring at enough backs facing me, decided it was the better part of valor to depart).

 

"I saw how they behaved in there. They aren't bad people, but they're not used to visitors." Cruelly, I couldn't resist asking back "And they don't get many second time visitors, do they?"

 

She looked at me sadly. "No, we don't. And that's why, you're right."

 

I assured her I appreciated her outreach, and I might have tried one more time but was leaving town that afternoon – we agreed to pray for each other, instead, and I still do.

 

When my wife and I visited Los Alamos, New Mexico a few years ago (long story), we went to church and were literally swamped with hospitality, and in a desert environment that takes some doing! I honestly wished I could go back to the United Church of Los Alamos, and hope to one day. They had a number of things going on that I noted for future reference back home in Ohio.

 

Church on the road is both a ritual observance and a breaking of familiar patterns. Whether you go somewhere different than you usually do, or just pray on your own in a hotel room before packing, you get to look at the shape of a week, the start of it in thanksgiving and mindfulness, the act of worship itself in new and thought-provoking ways.

 

I would love to hear about your experiences of unfamiliar but connective worship this summer!

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; tell him about your church on the road experiences at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.