On to the United Methodists

As promised, I'm back here to write about my visit last Sunday to Spring Creek United Church of Christ. I was drawn to them because they are all-inclusive, progressive, and close to my neighborhood. I was also glad that their Sunday morning service is at 10:30 AM, because I hate getting up early.

I was given a very nice "welcome bag" - a book bag with a pen (a good one, to boot) and a package of microwaveable popcorn (Thank you for "popping in") and literature about the church. The people were very, very friendly and warm. I loved the sermon; the text was taken from the Book of Joshua. I was reminded of the powerful "Baal, we cry to thee: hear and answer us! Heed the sacrifice we offer! Hear us, Baal! Hear, mighty god! Baal, oh answer us! Baal, let thy flames fall and extirpate the foe!" from Mendelssohn's Elijah, which got me to briefly join the Rockford Lutheran Choral Union in the 70's so I could sing in it. Then, the minister started talking about "foreign gods," and I remembered the chorus For He, the Lord our God, He is a jealous God; and He visiteth all the fathers' sins on the children to the third and the fourth generations of them that hate Him. His mercies on thousands fall - on all them that love Him and keep His commandments. And I knew, sadly, that I was a long ways from the tradition that's always been a part of me.

And I realized that I am never going to find a church that uses that beautiful old language. I left the Episcopal Church in 1978 when they quit using the 1928 Book of Common Prayer and the Hymnal 1940, and stopped singing the Healey Willan setting of the Mass. I also realized that I don't think I can go back to the Episcopal Church. I'm still not sure why, except for the fact that the one on Spring Creek Road doesn't have a pipe organ, and I can't imagine an Episcopal church with an electronic one.

Back to the United Church of Christ. They have a beautiful prayer and anointing for others and ourselves. As I said, the people are welcoming and I knew a few of them. I also learned how to pronounce Asherah (AH'-shera) - which means "Moongoddess." There was a well-known Rockford acoustic guitarist who played intricate, flawless melodies and accompaniments.  What was there not to like?

I'm going to start out by sounding defensive - I'm sorry. I refuse to call myself a snob. That is a mean, unfair word. I don't think I'm any better than anyone else. But, as a musician who cut my teeth in churches and minored in music with emphasis on church organ, I reserve the right to worship where the music is traditional and yes - even formal. I get that most churches these days are going to use piano and guitar along with the pipe organ unless you go to the Church of England - I take that back: Elton John played and sang Candle In the Wind at Princess Di's funeral, and I'm quite sure he used an electronic keyboard. But I need a church that at least uses the organ as part of the Sunday service - and I have to concede that nothing beats a good pipe organ.

At Spring Creek UCC, the music was jazzy and peppy. There was electronic keyboard and guitar. The choir was good - they sang on key. The congregation passed the peace. The coffee was great afterwards, and I got to see old friends. I left with a feeling of grace, and with a decision: I won't be joining this church. I sat down with my journal and made a list, at random, of the reasons:

• They say "Forgive Us Our Debts" instead of "Forgive Us Our Trespasses" in the Lord's Prayer. I mean it literally when I say that I am not ashamed of my debts - I pay off my credit card every month and I have a clear title to my car, but I am notorious for oversharing and being nosy. I need to pray the Lord's Prayer asking for the ability to discern when I am violating boundaries. Theologians will say that I'm misinterpreting the debts/trespasses debate, but I call it as I hear it. My TMI disturbs people - which begs the question: Who reads this blog?
• The minister does not wear vestments. I want the pastor/priest/minister/reverend to look like one. (unless it's summer and the air conditioning isn't working)
• There are chairs, not pews. I thought this wouldn't bother me, but to me, chairs in a big room are too much like the library auditorium. 
• Speaking of the library, where I worked for 35 years, I must have some big issues with that place. One of my dear friends, retired (as I am) from the from the library, is very active in that congregation. I like her, but she served in as a lay worship leader for the service I attended. I couldn't help it - I know her so well, and she spoke at so many Staff Institute Days when we were both working at the library, I felt like I was back at an all-employees meeting at my former workplace. Also, she was a supervisor there, and I'm not sure I could ever feel like I'm her peer. I sigh when I write this - she always has something interesting to say - but I am so OVER Rockford Public Library. I have severed the cord and there's no turning back. Or - at least I thought so.
• The textbook for their adult education classes is The Bible For Dummies. Really?
• They do not sing the Doxology. When I attended the United Methodist Church of Geneva, Illinois with my mother and the organ heralded the intro to "Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow," I felt the spirit. It is part of my religious experience. For you digital types, it's part of my database.
• They reminded me very much of the Unitarian Church. which I tried to join when I was 29. I attended their "Firesides" for new members; at the end of the series of meetings, the minister and the assistant minister (who were husband and wife) told me point-blank not to bother to pursue it; it was clear to them that I wouldn't be happy there. I must have asked too many questions about traditional music and liturgy. I can't resist my favorite anecdote about the Unitarian Church in Rockford: I don't know what they do now, but in the 70's they just plain didn't have church at all in the summer, because they thought people should have a vacation from Sunday services. (I guess.) On the first Sunday in September, when church resumed, the first service consisted of a "raise your hand and tell us what you did this summer" activity. The following Sunday, the male minister spent what I thought was going to be a sermon justifying why he had chosen to cut off his ponytail. What were they like before the Unitarians and the Universalists merged? 
• Which leads into the obvious: what was the Congregational Church like before it became the United Church of Christ? My father was raised in that faith and my grandmother attended Plymouth Congregational in Minneapolis until she moved in with my parents in Illinois. It was a very formal, society-type church. She would be spinning in her grave if she knew what the services are like now. 
• A minister wrote an article in Christian Century stating that the UCC believes in "seeing the world through clear windows." Metaphor, right. But, come to think of it, I'm not sure I've ever seen a Congregational or UCC church with stained glass windows. I need the stained glass. I want the mysteries. There is a bit of "Through a Glass, Darkly" in me.  The "speculum" notwithstanding (see Wikipedia article below), this ancient passage resonates in me. It probably reflects a Platonic Greek philosophy that this world isn't real; it's just a distorted image of things to come. I prefer to interpret it as a poetic expression of the ambiguity of God and the meaning of life. I decided to go to church because I am aware of my mortality and choose to have faith, and I want a community of people who are on a similar path. Since I can only speculate about what happens after we die, I at least want to do so through numinous colors and eloquent poetry.

• I looked through the United Church of Christ hymnal. They have neutralized the lyrics to many hymns I have sung all my life: e.g. Glorious Things of You are Spoken instead of Glorious Things of Thee are Spoken, Lead On, Eternal Sovereign instead of Lead On, O King Eternal, Faith of the Martyrs instead of Faith of  our Fathers, and Crown With Your Richest Crowns instead of Crown Him with Many Crowns. Marie just asked me to look up Jesus Christ, our Sovereign King and I thought she'd said "Jesus Christ has gone insane." (I don't have my hearing aids in). I don't know that hymn - it must be Catholic. It's not in there. The alterations in the UCC hymnal are very random; I'm flipping through it right now for more examples, and all I'm finding are the good old traditional lyrics. Go figure. (They even have Now Thank We All Our God in German). 
• Another point with regard to hymns: While I get it that they want to ditch gender-based language, kingly references and thees and thous, I just can't sing Be Now My Vision instead of Be Thou My vision. It hurts my ears. But what really hurt my ears is that gender or neuter, I didn't hear nor sing a single hymn I knew last Sunday. Most of the music was contemporary. I felt like I was at Girl Scout camp.
• During the offertory, we were treated to When Johnny Comes Marching Home, presumable because it was the day before the observance of Veterans' Day.
• It was Stewardship Sunday, and the closing "hymn" was Help! I Need Somebody--yup, the Beatles version.

Help! I need a different church. Christ United Methodist Church on Alpine is near our neighborhood as well. My mother goes to the United Methodist Church in Geneva, IL; one of my sisters was married there in 1983; my father was beautifully eulogized there in 1997, the people are absolutely wonderful, the pastor is a great speaker, the organist went to NIU and knows all my old cronies, and they have a Schantz pipe organ.  I've gone to church twice with Mom this fall and I do believe that if I lived in St. Charles or Geneva, I'd join that church in a heartbeat. So why not join the one here in my own city?

This week, I checked it out. I dropped in and took a tour by myself while a meeting was going on. I even took some pictures - and I was able to walk into the sanctuary. Christ United Methodist Church has a pipe organ built by the H.A. Howell Company of Dixon, IL. I have sweat equity in it; I worked with Hugh E. Burdick, the builder, when it was installed in the 70s. (I sat patiently at the console and held keys as he tapped on each pipe, in each rank, to tune the instrument). The Howell organ is still there. It was thrilling to see it and sit on the bench. It was obvious to me that they use it.

I've read a lot about the United Methodist Church. They are more socially progressive than other Protestant churches. In my mother's church, earlier this month, the congregation met to vote on a welcome statement adopted and endorsed by the Church Council. It states:  

We strive to be a Great Commandment church working intentionally to love God and love neighbor. Our faith community is enriched by our differences. We welcome diversity of sexual orientation, gender identity, race, ethnicity, age, economic condition, marital status, physical or mental ability, faith history or other distinctions which may have previously separated individuals from Christian community. Our welcome knows no boundaries. We seek to live into Christ’s loving embrace of all.

It lost by a very narrow margin - it's my opinion that those who voted against it feel that we are past the point where we need to spell out all the types of people accepted. Someone is going to feel left out. All-inclusive means exactly that, and their current statement reflects it. Christ United Methodist Church hasn't had that statement presented to them, but I'm sure they will. A glance on the Internet shows that many United Methodist churches in northern Illinois have approved it for their individual congregations.

I called the assistant pastor of Christ UMC. He could tell right away how important church music is to me. He was honest; he told me that the organ is never used at the 11 AM contemporary service, and not necessarily for every bit of music at the 8 and 9:30 AM traditional services. But it is played. I've met the organist. I've also met the choir director. Sadly, I doubt I'll join their choir, as they sing at the 8 AM service as well as the 9:30 one. If I have to be somewhere before 8 AM, there's no point in my going to bed the night before. Today I set an alarm for 8:30 so I could practice getting up early. Tomorrow, it will be set for 8:15 and I know what I'm wearing.

The United Methodist Church is often referred to as "the church of the warm heart." The heart of the faith is a ministry of love; they are a church of love and not a church of LAW.  They are big on social justice, and they take a lead in matters of concern, such as fighting racism. They accept thoughtful debate. They do not assign a gender to God; God is "spirit." They have members who differ on their perspectives about LGBTQ people; the point is that all persons have sacred worth. They ask us trust in the good intentions of others; they care about holy living. The church doesn't label itself as either "liberal" or "conservative." At present they do not ordain gay people; this raises my eyebrows. Personally, I don't think a person's sexual preference is anyone else's business, and I wish it didn't have to be forced to become an issue. In any case, no matter what church you join, you aren't going to agree with everything they do. The perfect church doesn't exist.

I love the opportunities to serve at Christ United Methodist Church. They have Stephen ministers. My mother took the 50 hours of training to become one after Dad died, and I want to be one, too. (UCC doesn't have that program). Christ United Methodist Church sings the Doxology. They don't make you join; you can attend without being a member and they'll even visit you in the hospital if you're sick; you just can't vote nor hold office. I'm not even at that point. I haven't even gone to church there yet.

The director of Rockford Urban Ministries belongs to that church. So does a well-known Rockford poet. Our electrician is a member. The guy who own the body shop where I need to take my car, since I scraped the fender against the side of the garage again, goes there.  They say "Thanks Be To God" after the pastor says "This is the Word of the Lord." They use "Trespasses" in the Lord's Prayer.
When I met with the Coordinator of Welcoming Ministries on Thursday, she gifted me with her personal copy of United Methodist Questions-United Methodist Answers. She gave me last Sunday's bulletin. She gave me a copy of the church directory. She let me borrow books from their library. I still wish I could have met with the pastor to talk theology, but I can make another appointment. There are no new membership classes until Spring. And no one said a peep to me about tithing, although I know it is necessary.

They have pews. They have stained glass. The ministers wear vestments. They use the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. They have a bookstore. They have wi-fi. They have, as I mentioned earlier, a pipe organ--and not just any old pipe organ. That in itself makes me feel that I have found tribe.

They believe in the Trinity. That is a non-issue for me except for the fact that I tend to like things that come in threes. They believe in free will, as I do.  They share their faith by acts of compassion, justice, devotion and worship. The book I was given has a passage where the author, F. Belton Joyner, Jr., says,"Remember that Adam is the Hebrew word for human being;  Eve is Hebrew for 'life giver.'  "  He even acknowledges what I have always thought since studying languages: recent research has shown that the word virgin in Isaiah 7:14 is actually a word that means "young woman of marriageable age,"

I hope this works out. I'm willing to try. I wish I recognized more of the people in the church directory. I can't get a spin on the congregation yet. So, the logical first step is to get up and go to the 9:30 AM service tomorrow. I'll be back with a review.

On joining a church

I, the confirmed Episcopalian snob/pagan wannabee who was baptized Lutheran, raised Presbyterian, attended the Unitarian Universalist church in the 70's,  and decided outright by the time I was 38 that I was not only pagan, but Dianic Wiccan -- I, who have longed for spirituality but have failed to find salience in organized religion throughout my adult life, have decided that I want to join a church. That's right - me - belonging to a church - a Christian church. Why?

Although nothing will ever change the fact that I believe in the Threefold Law, karma and reincarnation, I have received only hurt, rejection and lack of connection from the pagan communities here in Rockford and in Madison, Wisconsin for the last couple of decades, and the pain in my heart from these experiences have led me to seek another community with which to express my spirituality. I am on my way back to my Protestant roots, to explore what has become of organized religion since I left it, and if there is anything there for me today. I feel connected to the traditional religions because they are part of my history, my childhood, my upbringing, my database. So, I begin.
                                                                                                                                                 
On the corner of Spring Brook and Spring Creek Road, very close to where I live, sits Spring Creek United Church of Christ. I drive by it every day. It used to be our polling place. It is a simple, unpretentious building; there are no magnificent stained-glass windows and there is no pipe organ. No pipe organ! That's right. They have a Rodgers classical electronic organ. It is what my friends and I, back at NIU in the 70s, used to call an "electronic appliance." 

Me, the organ minor, wants to join a church with a Rodgers non-pipe organ. 

And yes, although they sing hymns, they also have non-traditional music. They might even have contemporary praise music, which I have said I can't stomach. But what is the point of going to church if all you want is theater?  Isn't that rather shallow? And times have changed. Here is a blurb from their website about their music program:

I could play my dulcimer and guitar there.

I could join their choir.

                                                       This is a picture of their organ:

]

Guest Organist Brian Voss

I left the pastor a voice mail this morning, and he phoned me back within 20 minutes. He is welcoming and he answered my questions. He told me that just from listening to what I had to say, I sounded like someone who would fit in and feel right at home there. And it is near my home, as I said - I could walk there if necessary.

                                                    This is their statement of belief:

This is what they do NOT believe:

Here are a few more snips from their website:

This is how to join, per their site:

Their Sunday service is not at the crack of dawn.

Back to my musical concerns--and as I sit here ruminating about my lifelong insistence that any church I might attend would HAVE to have a pipe organ and sing only traditional hymns;  in fact, one reason I left the Episcopal Church is that they stopped using the 1940 Hymnal, the Healey Willan Mass and the 1928 Book of Common Prayer--this is where I am right now. Musical snob me - I came across this link on youtube:

The Ruppe Sisters singing "It Is Well" in the rotunda of the 

American Music Theater in Lancaster, PA

and I immediately found a recording of it on an CD they made entitled A Cappella. Again, as I have never been a fan of contemporary praise music,  I don't like most of the other cuts. But It Is Well is a standard hymn, probably more known to Methodists than to Episcopalians or Presbyterians. I downloaded the MP3 and uploaded it to my phone and set my alarm to it, so now I hear it every morning when I wake up. And it makes me feel wonderful.

I also discovered a song called Oceans, which I think is beautiful.  I found it on youtube - and guess what? It is contemporary praise music.

And I love it.

Oceans (Where Feet May Fail) - Lyric Video HD

So - I'm not turning into a holy roller. And yes, I still have strong pagan leanings. But my upbringing was Christian, and that is the default of my spiritual database. 

I also believe that the right-wing hate groups have ruined the term "Christian" in a reprehensible manner. Unfortunately, to me, the word "Christian" is almost too damaged to use now.

As for my beliefs right now:

• I don't know, and I don't care, whether Jesus was divine.
• With regard to Christianity: I believe in a church of LOVE, not a church of LAW. Gay, Episcopalian Bruce Bawer writes about this in his book Stealing Jesus, and I agree with him, wholeheartedly.
• I don't have any strong feelings about the Trinity, although I know it is part of UCC doctrine. I can take it or leave it.
• I believe in a higher power - and for lack of a better word, I use the word God.
• I do not assign a gender to God.
• I know that no matter what church you join, there will be things with which you'll disagree. That is the nature of life. To quote from AA: the point is that I am trying to live my life along spiritual lines. 

So there you have it. I'll post again after I've visited the church. The non-traditional aspect of their music notwithstanding, I don't expect a lot of swinging and swaying. I think I'm going to find people who are intelligent, open-minded and thoughtful. And that is the kind of community I want. I hope it will resonate with me.

Brittany Maynard, and why I have to write about her

Unless you have been living under a rock for the last few weeks, you've heard about Brittany Maynard, the 29-year old newlywed who relocated to Oregon so she could legally obtain a prescription to end her own life. In January of this year, she was diagnosed with glioblastoma multiforme: an aggressive, malignant brain tumor that is actually more common in males. (I think that was what ER gave Dr. Mark Greene when they killed off his character). Surgery is the first-line treatment; if they can remove most of the tumor, people can survive longer; in fact, I read that after Brittany Maynard had a partial craniotomy and a partial resection of her temporal lobe, they were hoping for a ten-year survival. Sadly,according to Wikipedia, the cancer returned in April and was elevated to a grade 4 glioblastoma, giving her a prognosis of six months to live with horrific suffering at the end.

In Oregon, Washington, Vermont, Montana and New Mexico, eligible patients are legally allowed to seek help to die. Brittany Maynard moved to Portland, Oregon in order to obtain prescriptions for lethal doses of barbiturates to end her life when the time came that her suffering would be unbearable. I read that many of these prescriptions have been issued; many people do not use them. I didn't think Brittany would. She was quoted as saying that she hoped that her mother would not "break down" nor "deal with any kind of depression."

Really.

I am sorry. People don't get to do this. In my book, Brittany Maynard's act was more than a desire to die with dignity; I believe she wanted the media attention and the fame for being the poster child for her video campaign supporting physician-assisted suicide. She succeeded: her story went viral and her pictures have been everywhere, and her live interviews are all over Google, along with photos of her smiling radiantly with her husband during their recent trip to the Grand Canyon - the last item on her bucket list. I find this more than just disturbing. I find it vulgar. I felt it unnecessary to exploit this sad story for the benefit of a cause, even though I respect those who stand behind it. It is another example of mass media sensationalism. I believe that Brittany Maynard, young and pretty and educated, used this as an opportunity to push her activism. The cold reality of her act infuriates me.

My reaction to this has been intense. I guess my first feeling was one of horror, to think that I could even read such a thing and not be immediately devastated. What is the matter with me, that I would have gone insane if I'd read that someone had decided to euthanize a beloved cat in the presence of family and friends? This was a human being. A human being who essentially put herself to sleep in the presence of her loving family.

I don't know what I would do if someone I loved decided to do something like this. I couldn't sit and watch someone commit suicide by drinking an overdose of Secobarbitol. I actually read that it's recommended that one mix it with fruit juice, as it tastes terrible. I read she diluted it with water.

What if you don't get the right dose?

What if you foam at the mouth, or vomit, or have violent seizures or go through a series of grotesque contortions? What if you don't die right away? And what if you do? Is the coroner's station wagon parked in the driveway? Is the coroner waiting in the hallway, with a gurney and a body bag?

Did she take her euthanasia beverage in a wineglass? Was music played? What were her last words? Did she just go to sleep? Did she struggle? Was it really peaceful and serene? And were the loved ones surrounding her really in acceptance of this? Were they peaceful and serene? Didn't at least one of them want to grab the glass away from her and throw it across the room?

Cancer is horrible. I saw my father die of cancer - at home, with dignity and hospice - but not by unnatural means. A friend of mine here in Rockford just died of ALS. Should she had moved somewhere so she could have taken her life? Now that the formula for the drug dosage is known, it goes without saying that it could easily get into the wrong hands. Who's to stop someone from giving it to a relative with Alzheimer's? Or a child with a birth defect? Or a 70-year old person who has been deemed as "old" by society and therefore useless, and should become Soylent Green? What door does this open for anyone who wants to do away with someone for any reason? And if it's such a peaceful, humane way to go, why don't they use it in states that allow the death penalty instead of watching people writhe for 45 minutes after a botched lethal injection?

Of course, suicide has been around forever. I read a novel set in the late 1800s where a woman, suffering from sciatica, was no longer able to get her laudanum (tincture of opium) via prescription, so she suffocated herself in her closet. Overdoses are legendary. But she did it in her closet. Not with an audience, and not with newspaper reporters at large.

I'm not saying that Brittany Maynard should have just sucked up her death sentence and suffered. There are medications and there is hospice. She still had life left in her. Surely her family must have wanted more time with her. Why do I get the feeling that she was thinking to herself, "I'm going to die anyway - why not make a media statement about it while I'm at it - and become famous?" Then again, perhaps I'm being rigid and narrow-minded. Why not respect a person's right to choose to commit suicide?

My cousin Tim committed suicide a few years ago. Suicide is absolute destruction to a family. I lived with someone who was a survivor of her mother's suicide. Suicide is the ultimate selfish act, in my opinion. It is an act of desperation, an act of drama, an act of insanity. I wonder -- was Brittany Maynard thinking, "What about my family, who will (presumably) be surrounding me to watch me die?" Didn't it affect her, knowing that they'd agreed to witness the act and view her as she expired in front of them? Did she even think about their immediate - not to mention delayed - reactions?

I couldn't even stay in the room when I had to have my elderly cats euthanized. I couldn't watch. I certainly couldn't observe that process, whether carried out deliberately or not, in a case of one of my loved human family members or friends. Actually, I couldn't even watch an execution, although I was unfortunately subjected to it as I strolled by the Internet computers that library patrons were using to view beheadings. I think I did see Saddam drop. But that's about it. Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn.

That mother of hers will have nightmares for the rest of her life. And if I had been in that room, I would have felt like an accomplice.

If I had written the prescription, I would have felt like an accomplice.
Let's not talk about if I had been the physician.

If this is affecting me - a person who never knew Brittany, what is going on right now in the psyches of her immediate family? I understand that she had already done her Christmas shopping and that the gifts are wrapped. That seems very macabre. They will have some sort of meaningful funeral. Someone famous will speak and the media will be there. A book will follow; it's probably already on its way to press - and then, of course, a movie. Poor Jodi Picoult, my favorite author - unless I've forgotten about one of her books - she missed her chance to use this as a subject for a novel. People are addicted to this sort of thing - so, at least for the next few days, it will be big tabloid news.

Marie says that in this country, people will do things if they're legal - even if they aren't ethical. Was Brittany ethical? I can't speak for her. Maybe her family was on board with this. Maybe there is a lot about the situation that I don't know. Certainly I have no degrees in theology, or philosophy, or medicine, or ethics. I consider myself an above-average thinker, but when I talk about Brittany Maynard, I hear myself screaming. I'm screaming basically what I said at the beginning of this: I'm sorry. She does not get to do this. But she did.

My prayers go with her grieving family. The family of Brittany Maynard is surrounded by loving support right now. Just wait a month. Or a year, or ten years. Actually, in this society, the world will have moved on by next week.

Brittany Maynard's cancer was a tragedy she did not deserve. Whether she had the right to take her own life or not is not my call. I just know that I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. And it isn't settling well with me. I can't get the images out of my mind. I'm furious for myself for morbidly digging through Google, trying to find the minute details about the moment of her death. I am horrified by my own obsession with horror. It's like a bad accident. You can't look at it, but you can't look away. Anyone reading this will conclude that I am some sort of sickie voyeur myself. Maybe I am.

Rest in peace, Brittany Maynard. And I hope I can get some rest tonight as well.