Finding my Place?

 

I visited Pittsboro UMC Sunday for the late service

five minutes from my home.

 

Lovely worship space

excellent music fantastic choir

congregation not overly friendly

but not unfriendly either

my presence seems to surprise pastors

he was friendlier on my way out the door.

Monday I received email from him

it was a joy having you in worship yesterday etc

this was first welcome note I have received

after sending hundreds of them myself

I emailed in reply I’ve been visiting churches

was invited to PUMC by neighbors

loved the worship service

not familiar with this district 

want to sing in choir at church near home 

which limits my choices.

 

Within a few minutes a return email

with contact info for choir director

we’d love to have you in our choir

I emailed director: can visitor join choir?

“Dear Pastor Cheryl” came reply – yes indeed

first fall practice is tomorrow at 7.

 

Next day I received church coffee mug

filled with chocolate kisses

and note: welcome!

also email from office administrator: welcome!

 

I think you’re being pursued Keith said

this is what is supposed to happen I replied

coffee mug was a nice touch.

 

Choir practice was superb also nostalgic

I haven’t been part of a well-led choir

with people who laugh joke enjoy each other

since I was a student at Pleasant Green

I so loved the choir there

my voice is worn out from years of preaching

no one seemed to notice.

 

Welcome Pastor Cheryl!

please I am retired 

I'm really a recovering pastor

they all laughed

just Cheryl will be fine

they were friendly welcoming.

 

So I will sing at 9 and 11 on Sunday

probably return to Sunday school between

perhaps I have found my place.

Hope, Part 2

 

Katherine and Mom at brunch, August 2025

Lovely weekend began with celebration of Katherine’s birthday

foursome brunch in Pittsboro

traveled next to artists gallery in Creedmoor

she selected glass pumpkin (which she collects) as gift

then home to play lively mahjong.

Saturday funeral in Roxboro with pretty backroads drive

good to see colleagues and former church members.

Neighbor invited me to Pittsboro UMC

may I ride with you?

of course but we go to Sunday school first is that okay 

I’m not sure I can keep my mouth shut in bible study I worried to Keith

you can do it he said.

Sunday school was a dozen older people around a table

lesson was in Luke’s Gospel but we began in Genesis

under the oaks of mamre

the teacher asked who were Abraham’s three visitors?

someone actually – actually! – answered the Trinity

the teacher said she had never heard this

they probably were God and two angels

I said nothing.

Late service in the old sanctuary

lovely space not as large as I guessed

big brass cross up front

stained glass windows potted plants

short curved Communion rail I guess they don’t kneel

organ piano choir

young pastor wears headset mic does not robe

bowtie reminds me of Bruce Stanley (smile)

he preached the last of three-part series on Prodigal Son.

The choir was superb excellent music

we sang Love Divine All Loves Excelling one of my favs.

I sat third row from front

between mahjong friend I recognized

and neighbors who brought me.

Church is hard for me friend said softly before service began

why is that I wondered

I was married to United Methodist pastor

who cheated on me with someone he was counseling

this was in Virginia

I’m so sorry I said

church is difficult for many people

you know I’m a retired pastor

we can talk about it sometime I offered

she said the one thing I want to leave with from worship

is a sense of hope

if I can just feel hope

it helps me get through the week.

Yes that is true for all of us I said.

Hope, Part 1

 

A monarch butterfly visiting our zinnias

Worst. blog. ever.

I'm about to destroy this latest iteration

use the Iceland photos

create a separate photo book.

 Maybe turn this into a family photo album.

I struggle - we struggle - each day

to write to help to do what must be done

even to smile sometimes

to dwell together peacefully

to live through what feels like end-times.

I am relieved not to be a pastor

who must preach hope.

Behold God's monarch butterfly

colorful zinnias.

Monarchs are fairly rare these days

of destroyed environment

plastic and poison

boiling summers and violent storms.

These are days of 

persecuted immigrants

frightened mothers and children

masked thugs

gun violence

unconscionable cuts to science

never-ending wars

demented corrupt old man

with so many followers

why O God?

Butterflies are symbols of hope

of renewal beauty fragility

God's reckless extravagant love.

Sunday Mornings

 

I wait for the worship service to begin

it’s 11 o’clock but things are not punctual here

however they are casual

old wooden pew no padding uncomfortable

the back slanted forward to keep us awake

not something I’ve had to endure in a while.

 

A huge central wooden cross

has big cruel nails driven in

where hands and feet would be

I’ve not seen that in a Protestant church

Communion table covered with fat white candles

which someone forgot to light

because the pastor is out of town.

 

More people arrive a few approach

to greet me we introduce ourselves

four names is about my limit

one woman sits on the pew in front of mine

turns around to hear my name and tell me hers

immediately she asks: Do you love Jesus?

yes I reply

that’s what matters she says in a happy way

hops up to move elsewhere

had I been thinking quicker maybe

I would have asked her the same

then wondered how she shows that love in the world

actually that’s not likely

I don’t want to intimidate people

she wasn’t as concerned

had I been a seeker hers could have been

an off-putting question.

 

As it is they will see me sing the old hymns

recite the Apostles’ Creed from heart

toss a check in the plate

wish folks the peace of Christ

someone who knows her way around

a church like this.

 

One of them will say

she said she loves Jesus

what was her name again?

Transitions

 

Cheryl and Keith in Iceland 2025

I have decided not to say more about Iceland. It was a great trip but probably not one I will do again. I would like to go in search of Northern Lights - it's on my bucket list - but I should probably find a place that isn't cloudy almost all the time and light outside for 24 hours in the summer. Maybe the time and place to search for the Aurora Borealis is October in Alaska. 

Speaking of travel, currently, my firstborn is in South Africa for a continuing education event -- what, South Africa? She was almost the victim of a crime before she could get to her hotel. Katherine is a veterinarian, and she likes to take her continuing education credits in exotic places. She spent a semester in Africa when she was in college, and she's a grown woman, so I must merely smile, wish her a good trip, and remind her to check her hotel room for bedbugs. 

Bedbugs are a good transition to the topic I really want to talk about -- churches. What, bedbugs? My home church got bedbugs from a former secretary who brought them in on her person long after I was gone. The office and the pews where she sat on Sundays both got an infestation. I was told the horror story by a friend who attends there who was extremely distressed about it. It was an expensive problem. 

Aren't churches interesting places? Since I've been retired, I've visited two -- First UMC in Siler City, and today, Bynum UMC in Bynum. It takes 23 minutes to drive to Siler City, and 5 minutes to drive to Bynum, which is its own little community in Pittsboro on the other side of the Haw River. There was no church service offered aboard the Viking ship in Iceland, and Sunday I was confined to my cabin anyway. 

There are three things I would like to find in a church, and I probably never will find all three: a friendly, welcoming congregation, good music, and great preaching. Let me be more specific just about myself. The members should greet visitors warmly, the hymns should mostly be from the regular Hymnal and played well on the piano, and the preaching should be from a lectionary text, well exegeted, well delivered, and succinct. I enjoy good preaching -- if you are Adam Hamilton, I can happily listen for two hours, but please do not give me a 20-minute dull theological lecture.  

Or worse -- start what promises to be a dry 6-week sermon series on "United Methodism." 

Which is too bad! First Church has such friendly people and great music. They probably wonder what happened to me. Maybe I'll return in September. 

I'm so critical, aren't I? Keith says I will never find a church to my satisfaction, and I said, "Wrong! Blowing Rock Methodist Church hit all three criteria, bang on the nose!" Unfortunately, I cannot drive three hours to attend a church that meets only during the summer. 

I heard pretty good preaching today at Bynum from a student pastor. However, it took a whole week and practically an act of Congress to find out the worship time at that church. Then I was disappointed to be the first person in the sanctuary at 10:53 a.m., which meant I was not immediately greeted. However, it turned out half the church was in Sunday school, and things got better during the passing of the peace. 

My views on Communion are somewhat fussy. Bynum did well (in my opinion). There was fresh fragrant bread, juice poured dramatically into the cup during the liturgy, and we received by intinction. I really hoped we would all kneel around the rail, but you can't have everything. At First Church, the juice was in those little thimbles, and the bread was... pita, I think. I can't remember because I was anxious about the thimbles. Nothing was explained (at either church, actually). Do I drink first or eat? What should I do with my empty thimble? Who has to clean all these glass thimbles?! Why do churches still use them?

At Bynum, the music was on the piano from the Hymnal; no choir. They started with, "Let There Be Peace on Earth," unannounced and not in the bulletin, which can only mean they sing it every Sunday. Isn't that lovely! There were perhaps 25 people present and they sang out, at least the women did. 

The pastor at Bynum seemed baffled to meet me but pleased I was there. He's getting married Saturday and will be out for two Sundays. Several Div School folks are filling in, so maybe I will return for more good preaching. 

Hello Again Reykjavik

 

Outside the iconic church in Reykjavik

Blogging should not be this much trouble. More on that later; yes, later.

Our last day in Reykjavik (several days ago now) could have been spent in the airport. We were kicked off the ship at 9 a.m., and our flight did not depart until 4:45 p.m. Instead, we took a taxi to the Fly-Bus Station, put our luggage into lockers, and went out to explore downtown. We could see the church (above) at almost all times, so we walked towards it. 

Walking around was fun even though it rained. I think it rains every day in Iceland, and I was just happy to be, as usual, in the low-50-degree windy weather. We did a bit of shopping and ate in a local restaurant. Or I ate in the restaurant. A little personal quiche, all made from scratch, very delicious. Keith and Judi decided to wait to eat in the airport. Really?

I'm sorry I don't have a photo of the two of them. My laptop refuses to download the ones that were offered to me. I could hardly stand blogging on my phone because I'm not good at texting. My blog posts were full of misspellings and mistakes and were really too small for me even to read. 

The photo above is of the rainbow street in Reykjavik. Iceland is very open and accepting of everyone, and the rainbow street honors gays. Despite the lovely church at the top - its name is "Hallgrimskirkja," most people in Iceland are not religious. There aren't many churches, and almost all of them are Lutheran. One tour guide told me, "We don't care if people go to church or if they don't. Most of them don't." Ironic for such concerned, kind, patient, helpful citizens to not be Christian. In fact, I remember reading that when the United Methodist Church splintered, Iceland made a point of saying the Global Methodists were not really welcome in Iceland because of their prejudice against gays. 

The organ pipes inside Hallgrimskirkja

We left at noon for the airport via Fly-Bus (it takes 45 minutes to get there as it's in the next town over, Keflavik), and boy were we glad we left early. The airport is too small for all the tourists, and it was a madhouse. We had to print out our own boarding passes and luggage tags and put our own suitcases on the conveyor belt after weighing and measuring them ourselves. This took a long time. The rest doesn't matter; let's just say the flight home was uncomfortable. We were greeted with 93-degree weather and suffocating humidity. 

I have a lot of conflicting feelings about our vacation. I loved Iceland. I loved Viking Cruises somewhat less. Keith and Judi went to some of the steam-bath lagoons; I did not. I did not see puffins or lava. Keith and his sister fell into a weird family pattern I'm not sure I can explain. 

Also, I have more photos, so I plan to go into my blog posts and expand.