Charge Conference 2023

Bee balm blooms in Holy Spirit red in Massey's pollinator garden

Charge conference this year was Oct. 26 at 7 p.m. at Parkwood UMC, which my GPS told me would take 45 minutes to reach from my home. I gave myself an hour and 15 minutes, and I was glad because the traffic on the freeway was backed up and slow. Still, I arrived 15 minutes early and parked across the street from Parkwood because the church itself has only handicapped parking. It was dark by then, but the parking lot was well lit, and there was a baseball game going on next to the lot with signs that said: “Beware of foul balls.” So I moved my car!

I could hear chanting from a mosque on the other side of the parking lot. What an interesting place.

I expected to be the first person from Massey’s Chapel there – imagine my surprise to enter a classroom where there already were six people… and the D.S. made seven. At least that many more arrived after me; we had to pull up extra chairs. What a great show of support!

What did you do to get all these people here?, the DS asked. Did you threaten them or something? They loved that – Yes! She threatened us!

I really love these people. Our charge conference was a love fest – we love God, we love each other, and we love The United Methodist Church. My “peeps” answered the DS’ questions (yay), voted on the stuff we needed to vote on, and then I let slip that Keith and I plan to move back to Durham. This made Massey's people very happy and seemed to puzzle the DS. Why?, he asked me. “I’m just too far away,” I replied. That, and some other significant things, I didn’t say.

After that, we went to the sanctuary for a worship service with Parkwood.

I remember a former DS and mentor telling me that she watched churches and pastors during charge conference – you can learn a lot, she said. How many lay people attend? One or two, or a lot? Does the pastor sit removed from the church or in the midst of those who attend? Do they look at each other? She asked me why I thought the pastor had sat on the other side of the room from his people at the charge conference we had both attended. I had noticed but hadn't thought about it. I think – I think – I’ve not ever sat separate from my people at a charge conference, but for sure I never did after that.

So: Another charge conference has come and gone. It has been a very good year, praise God.

 Sedona UMC

Before I forget, I wanted to blog about my visit to Sedona United Methodist Church on Sunday, Oct. 1, while my daughter, son-in-law (who joined us for the weekend), and I were visiting Arizona. Katherine was in a veterinary continuing education event about behavioral problems in cats, so Jonathan and I attended church together.

It was raining gently, a somewhat rare event for Arizona. We got there early, of course, because I am always overly eager to get to church, even if it is not one that I serve. We thought we would sit 10 minutes or so in the parking lot, but no – here came a man with an umbrella up to the car. I rolled down the window, and he offered to escort me into church under the umbrella. That gave the church big welcoming points in Pastor Cheryl’s book.

Once inside, Jonathan and I were attacked by a small army of greeters who immediately took down our contact info and stuck name tags on our shirts. They pushed all kinds of church freebies on us, including a cool magnetic cross, which I stuck on the refrigerator at Massey’s Chapel. It was overkill, however, and we could hardly extricate ourselves to go sit in the sanctuary. “I don’t live here, people!” I wanted to shout, even though that had been the first question out of their mouths.  

The sanctuary was lovely with big clear windows, it had a back balcony where the sound system was set up, and was built for a larger congregation than the 50 or so souls who attended that day. I forced poor Jonathan to sit on the second pew from the front with me. The worshipers were dressed up which meant my son-in-law and I were not dressed up enough. I wondered out loud what the small separate stage, flanked by flags, was for – children’s Christmas plays? He answered it probably was for a praise band. Oh… right. Pre-pandemic perhaps. You can tell what kind of churches the two of us are used to.

The worship service was standard United Methodist, the piano music was all Communion hymns from The Faith We Sing projected onto a screen, and there was a small choir (no praise band). Because I did not know the songs, I could not sing loudly, which was probably just as well. The "mature" white male pastor gave a sermon about not getting discouraged, and I uncharitably wondered if he were preaching to himself. I know I do. I'm also mature, okay? Just not that mature. 

There was no congregational sharing of prayer concerns, and no passing the peace. 

It was World Communion Sunday (which explains the music), and during Communion everyone came forward and received bread that was pre-cut into small pieces and plastic thimbles of grape juice (to be thrown in a trash receptacle before returning to our seats). There were three Communion stations for the congregation, which meant it all ended very quickly. The Communion servers were wearing white plastic cafeteria gloves which was a turn-off that I cannot explain theologically. I’m sure it was a remnant of fearful Covid days; ironically, no one wore a mask. 

Jonathan and I were mobbed by friendly people at the end of the service and invited to attend a post-worship coffee and snack time, which we declined. When we emerged from church, the sun was shining brilliantly. We picked up Katherine and headed to lunch, followed by the drive back to Phoenix and flight home the next day.

Antelope Canyon

 

Katherine and I journeyed to Arizona the last week of September, where we visited Antelope Canyon near Page, in the northern part of the state. Carved through the sandstone over millennia by water that sometimes still flows, Antelope Canyon will remain in my memory as a place of singular, other-worldly beauty. It would have been on my bucket list had I known how breath-taking it is. Here are some more photos:

All these photos were taken standing on the sandy floor of the canyon, looking up. I cannot describe the play of light and dark; these pictures were all taken in the early afternoon on my phone with no fancy photography tricks. You can stand anywhere and turn your body - or take one step - and the view changes. The colors change. 

The photo below was taken with a "panoramic view," which counts as a small "trick," I suppose.

The part of Antelope Canyon we walked through is not long -- only about half a mile. It was mildly challenging because we had to climb up and down stairs and ladders and squeeze through narrow passages. I'm so very glad I experienced it with my daughter!  

God is such an artist!