Off to church

Yesterday morning found David and me at the church his mother recommended ("sort of affirming" she said). It was a large Presbyterian church in Ashland. The morning was beautiful and warm. Pentecost Sunday (though I didn't remember that until I got there—otherwise I would have worn red). I had done my research otherwise, though, and knew that blue jeans wouldn't work. Definitely no shorts. I cautioned him not to wear a severe black suit, or they would think we were Mormon missionaries or undertakers.

I loved the church. My background is Presbyterian, and all the little things felt so familiar (including the unique Presbyterian variant on The Lord's Prayer). The choir was robed. The music was pipe organ.

I told David that he got the full Presbyterian blast. A baby was baptized and we re-enacted the solemn dance that is a Presbyterian communion Sunday. The preacher was a woman, a General Presbyter, and the whole thing was sprinkled with little special terms.

I think David was less enthralled. After all, the choir was robed and the music was pipe organ. And I did agree with him that a Michael Smith song ("Great Are You Lord") done in a full choir style was a little funny. He was really tickled (we both were) when the preacher told a little story about another church she had been in. Seems they had an idea about youth ministry and all their leaders began getting sick, really sick. One guy had cancer, so they prayed for him. Never expected him to get well (She pointed out that they were Presbyterians, after all—people don't just get well when you pray for them.). That cracked David up.

I think we'll go back. It was impossible to form an opinion about the "accepting and affirming" issue, because the preacher was a guest and there was no way to really chat with people. I'm sure there's more to see there.