St. Paul Evangelical Lutheran Church
Collingswood, NJ
December 19, 2007
I had visited a
Seventh-Day Adventist Church for the first time a couple weeks ago, and I decided to continue this habit of going to church on days other than Sunday during this Advent season. Most churches have special weekday services during the Advent and Easter seasons, so I knew it would be easy to find something special to attend.
I looked through the local paper, and saw that St. Paul’s was having evening midweek Advent services, so I decided to attend one. My earlier accounts of visiting other ELCA churches are
here,
here,
here, and
here.
The church was easy to find, even in the dark – in fact, it’s located directly across the street from the house church I had attended earlier that year, the home of the
King James Only Baptists.
I park on the street and walk in. Again with the upstairs sanctuary – I have been encountering a whole rash of these, after not seeing one for years and years! I walk up a flight of stairs, find a pew, and look around. This is an older building, and I like the slightly worn but well-cared-for appearance. There are stained glass windows, but you can’t really see them at night. The sanctuary seats about 250, I think, and there are balconies on either side that might hold more people. A lovely old pipe organ is situated in the balcony behind us, and I think there might be a choir loft up there, too.
The walls are white, and a large tapestry with blue, red, and gold icon-type images hangs in front of us. In the middle of the cloth is a wooden cross, which is shaped sort of like those starburst-style kitchen clocks from the fifties. In fact, this place has a fifties vibe, in large part because the pews are upholstered in bright red leatherette, something like you might find in a retro diner. I also see a couple of large paintings that I associate with the fifties, probably because I remember them from my childhood – the famous one of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, wearing flowing robes and long hair reminiscent of a mid-twentieth century Breck shampoo ad.
This description of the sanctuary might sound critical, but I’m not feeling critical. I like this place; it’s comfortable. I especially like the fact that the back wall on which the tapestry hangs has a few cracks and imperfections. This is how a church should look, in my opinion – sincere, somewhat humble, well-loved and cared-for, and comfortably old. (I know, I know – when I visited
The Church of the Holy Trinity, I was astounded by the stunning beauty of the place. But I do like the less amazing buildings, too.)
There is a piano in the front, and an American flag, but no Christian flag. (I try to notice the flags in every church I visit, whether I mention them in these accounts or not. I have surprisingly strong feelings on the flag topic – generally opposed to both in a sanctuary – but I realize that this must be a minority viewpoint, since the flags are almost ubiquitous.)
Hey, here’s something new – a bottle of Purell hand sanitizer at the end of each pew! That is different.
The pastor enters, wearing a white robe and purple stole. He is young, perhaps in his thirties. He stands in the center aisle and apologizes for the fact that the building is so chilly tonight – he had forgotten to come in earlier and turn on the heat. (Actually, I like a cool, dimly lit sanctuary for an Advent service.) He explains the events of the service tonight very thoroughly, which is helpful for me. I wonder if he explains in such detail because he recognizes that there is a visitor in the pews -- or perhaps this is his custom.
We begin with prayers and simple singing from the Service of Light. A woman from the pews walks up into the pulpit to read the New Testament verses. The pastor begins his homily by reading a quotation from Georges Khodr, an Eastern Orthodox theologian: “We find Christ hidden everywhere, in the mystery of his lowliness.”
The pastor says that he has been thinking about this sentence throughout Advent. The idea of Christ begin hidden everywhere ties in with the idea of Advent, a season in which we wait for something we already have – two of those paradoxes that are at the heart of Christianity. He says that this is a season to embrace waiting.
He speaks clearly and easily, standing in the middle of the center aisle. He seems to have a few notes with him, but generally has the appearance of someone just speaking from the heart. He emphasizes the fact that Christ is to be found in the lowly, and urges us to seek the poor and lowly if we would find Christ.
After the homily there are prayers and a little more singing. Some of the congregants shake hands with me, and the woman in the pew in front invites me to come back for the Christmas services. The pastor shakes my hand, asks my name, and asks me to sign the guest book near the entrance. I ask him about the spelling of Khodr, and tell him that I liked the homily very much.
Outside the sanctuary, I see a book and pen on a stand and sign my name under some other names. Then I walk downstairs and see the guest book. Uh oh – what the heck did I sign upstairs? Oh well. I sign the other book. Whatever I signed, I hope it wasn't too big a mistake. On the plus side, already I have a chance to be lowly and humble, about my constant mistakes while visiting churches!
As I drive home, I’m thinking,
Excellent Advent service.
Christ is hidden everywhere. Embrace the waiting.
