A few weeks ago I wrote about finding a church that I loved, but Amanda rejected.  We continued our quest, visiting several, and now I believe we have found the church for us.

Two friends told me that the United Church of Gainesville had excellent children’s programs.  I knew they were a progressive church with a social justice orientation.  They were the source of our first HOME Van donation nine years ago: in a single service they collected 189 pairs of socks, 189 jars of peanut butter, and $189.  They also participate in the Interfaith Hospitality Network, in which member churches take turns providing temporary shelter, food and services to homeless families. So I thought we’d give it a try.

The people mingling outside the church were all white, but in the entrance Amanda was happy to see a girl she knew from kindergarten, and we sat with that family.  The sanctuary is a beautiful space of wood and windows.  People were welcoming, and the sermon was thought-provoking.  The children gathered in front for a story, we sang to everyone who had a birthday that week, and then Amanda went off with the children for Sunday School.

PHOTO FROM TRADITIONALMASS.ORG

As a child I went to an Episcopalian church.  To me, church is dogma and ritual and music.  The only dogma I’ve found at UCG is a commitment to welcome everyone no matter who they are or what they believe.  A part of me asks, So what’s the point?  The congregation has created lovely rituals, but they lack the mystery, history and solemnity I loved as a child. There is beautiful music of all sorts – classical, Dixieland, bluegrass -, but the hymnal seems to consist entirely of hymns written since 1960.  The lyrics are clunky progressive pieties, and give me the willies, though there are few I would disagree with. 

Still, Amanda enjoyed her time with the children, and wanted to return.  I found, as I always do in church, that the program of listening, speaking, silence and singing is a calming time that taps into wells of memory and grief I rarely visit.

Of all the churches we visited, Amanda liked this one the best.  I had my doubts, but I went to a meeting for prospective members.  We sat in a circle to say why we were there, and listened to members and ministers who told us what the church means to them. 

I heard the same words over and over: community, commitment to service and social justice, spiritual seeking.  I thought desperately, “I don’t want community. I’m drowning in community!”  I’ve been in Gainesvillle over thirty years, and have many old friends whom I see too seldom.  As for service, my hands are full with the HOME Van and school volunteering, not to mention Amanda. I don’t want any more obligations, or any more guilt.  Finally, when it comes to a search for truth and meaning, I am like someone born with no sense of taste.  I don’t miss it, and in fact take comfort in the thought that we are tiny specks in an unfeeling, unthinking universe. 

HUBBLESITE.ORG/GALLERY/ALBUM/THE_UNIVERSE

But Amanda likes going to this church, and feels she is part of the group.  We go almost every Sunday now, and bit by bit I am less of a stranger.  I’ve learned a few names, and I’ve signed us up to help host dinner for the homeless families who are staying at the church.  I like the thoughtful, honest sermons of the four ministers, and my prickly, judgmental voice is becoming fainter.  We may have found our church.

NEXT WEEK: The No Bird

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