I recently joined a church in my new-to-me hometown. Actually, I transferred my membership, and have so enjoyed attending, learning, and belonging.
My new-to-me church is a large, solid, old Church with high ceilings and beautiful stained-glass windows. There’s a balcony area and many staircases, with one that leads to the basement kitchen, like we had in my prairie home church. The pew Bibles are well used, and comforting to me, as many hands before mine have held them close. Fans hum, the a/c works some of the time, and we smile and fan ourselves with the church bulletin.
We greet each other in the parlor, “Earl” encourages name tags and there’s always a low hum of friendly visiting as we enter the sanctuary. “Doc,” another greeter, welcomes us, with a joke and a chuckle. The weekly message varies and so does attendance, hymns are traditional but newer, more upbeat songs are sung, too. Guest speakers appear sometimes, and, at others, congregants share testimonies of faith. So much to savor and enjoy.
From my very first visit I found the congregation warm, and welcoming; everyone made me feel right at home.
It’s not just the message, and the hand squeezes from old ladies half my size. It’s the coffee & fellowship afterwards, in the Church basement. I always take part, and heard one lady exclaim recently, “Church is great but this is the best part!” She may be on to something.
Ladies flitting around, men helping brew the coffee. There’s always snacks – cookies, cakes, muffins, crackers & cheese, and fruit. Coffee, regular and decaf, water and juice boxes, too. I’ve signed up to help on a regular basis. Why? Most of the congregation is far older than me, and some of these ladies have been serving and fussing for 40+ years – they are the ones who have appreciated a new helper the most. Plus, I love to cook and bake – today was my turn and the 2 sheet cakes, treats and crackers & cheese I contributed were soon gone; lucky for me another church lady showed up with cupcakes.
Yes, I am enjoying attending church again and am often moved by the Spirit. I cried through the first few services, and looking back, I can see that my soul was happy to come home. I’m better now. What I’d forgotten is the joy in fellowship — in the serving, the sharing, the visiting, the laughing, the telling of stories. Fellowship is the heartbeat of an active congregation; fellowship isn’t what I was looking for, but I know now that’s what I was lacking. Fellowship has me contributing, engaging, and growing. Fellowship feels good.
How does fellowship feel to you?
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