Baptist

“We communicate the way we do because we are raised in a particular culture and learn its language, rules, and norms. Different cultures (and subcultures) may have different rules and norms. Understanding the other’s culture facilitates cross-culture communication.” Overland Park Baptist hand out

This morning I attended the Overland Park Baptist Temple with one of my best friends, Vivia.

I started off the morning with grocery shopping. I love getting out before the crowds hit. I am a true blue introvert so having alone time first thing in the morning sets my day for success. There was hardly anyone on the roads and even less people at my local Sprouts grocery store. Whenever I visit Sprouts in the morning I always pick up one of their yummy fresh made muffins. Today was no different, except that I grabbed an extra one for my friend Vivia.

As if she was reading my mind, I came home to a message on my iPad from her saying that we should get together this morning before church and visit with a hot cup of coffee. “Come on over girl, I have coffee in the french press and a blueberry muffin for you!” was my response. Good friends just know, you know!

When I told her of my idea to visit 30 different religions before I turned 30 a few months ago, she was more than encouraging with the idea. She not only was encouraging but she said she wanted to join for however many her schedule would allow. And this is one of the reasons I love her so much. Since I have known her, her and I have really been on the same page with so much in our lives. She is incredibly open minded and embraces that her thoughts on life are ever changing. She is one of the most caring people I know and incredibly non judgmental.

Just as last Sunday, I really wasn’t sure what to expect at a Baptist Temple. I spent my afternoon yesterday out shopping for a modest church outfit. I am a nanny of a two year old and if I am not at work I am usually found on the couch in my sweat pants reading a book or in a yoga class so my closet is simple and easy to say the least. The non denominational churches that I have attended the last few years have been accepting of my very casual wardrobe but with the title temple, I thought it was best to finally invest in a good “church” outfit.

Although I don’t enjoy much shopping, I have to say that yesterday’s experience was really great. I made my way to my old stomping grounds in Lees Summit to one of my favorite little second hand boutiques. The woman helping me pick out my outfit was the sweetest sales associate and I eventually found myself telling her about my 30 before 30 project. She was so intrigued and told me that she was a newly convert to Mormonism. She gave me a recommendation to where she attends on Sundays and with that not being on my list yet, I am looking forward to adding it to places to visit before the year is up.

Dressed in our Sunday best, Vivia and I arrived at the Baptist Temple. Lucky for us the temple was a total of five minutes away from the apartment complex we both live in. How convenient! I love leaving for church with ten minutes to spare and arriving early, who doesn’t?!

As I saw people walking into church in their more modest dresses and suits, I felt very grateful that I spent the afternoon finding a good church outfit. My jeans and yoga pants just wouldn’t have done well here.

There were two older gentlemen in their Sunday suits that greeted us at the door. They shook both of our hands and welcomed us right in. The first door greeter noticed right away that we were not of the normal crowd and took the time to ask our names and thank us for joining them that morning. So right away I felt completely welcomed. Plus, little old men who have the most welcoming smile just warm my heart! Who doesn’t love that sweet comfy grandpa vibe?

The first thing we did once entering was stop at the welcome desk. My goal for every place I visit is it grab a hand out. The welcome desk people welcomed us right away, shook our hands and asked us if it was our first time attending. These people are on it is all I have to say. And the feeling I got from this church was that it was a place where everyone knows everyone so two new visitors are pretty recognizable.

Upon entering the sanctuary, we were once again shaking hands with the sanctuary door greeters. Again, two older gentlemen who took their time to welcome us and make eye contact. So before the service even began, I had been kindly greeted and welcomed by five people. Truly making a new guest feel better about entering into a completely new space.

The first decision one always finds themselves asking when entering a service is, “Where do we sit?” My friend Vivia said, “The first row, of course!” To which I responded, “How about the second row.” We ended up in the third row as the second row was already saved.

The temple was very beautiful. It reminded me of many churches that I have attended in my past. Very old school and traditional. There were the wooden church pews and hymnals tucked in every backseat. There was the big cross up at the front with stain glass windows right above. There were palm trees lining the stages back walls. The stairs leading up to the stage were carpeted and the pulpit was made out of wood, very beautiful.

What I loved the most about this temple was how music focused it was. There was a choir of about 30 people up front. There was a grand piano and guitar players on the left of the stage (from my view). And a whole orchestra on the right of the stage. I was really taken aback by the orchestra.

The first half of the service was singing and listening to solos from multiple people. There were two soloist singers, the choir performed and a trumpet player performed. And of course we the audience/ church members were encouraged to stand and sing songs as well. Some of which I haven’t heard since I was a little girl in church.

As the morning announcements were being said my eyes couldn’t help but being drawn back to the hymnal in front of me. It was like a magnet pulling me towards it. I wanted to touch it and open it up but I felt like if I did I would suddenly get hit with my past church memories. Holding the hymnal again as a little girl, standing there in my old church, hearing my dad play his trombone on stage in the band, seeing Ms. Kay at the piano playing everything by memory. I did not let that magnetic hymnal pull me in though. I really wanted this experience to be pure and fresh from untainted glasses, so to speak.

My feelings for how I grew up are both heavy and light and the more I allow that part of my life to start reopening, the more I realize that there may be more heavy than light feelings that I hold for the church I grew up in. So with all that said, I said a little prayer in my head that I wouldn’t see today’s experience through the lenses of my past but instead of how I was supposed to see it today. I needed to remind myself that the ultimate goal for this 30 before 30 challenge is to stay open minded and to not enter these new places with my own prejudgments or past burdens.

After that prayer in my head I found myself unfolding my arms and letting go of tense muscles, which I didn’t even realize I had. I suddenly became more mindful as to what was being said and happening around me.

The pastor’s sermon this week was of Jesus and the disciples in the garden of Gethsemane.

The main point that really stuck with me was how important prayer is. That in the bad moments we ask for prayer but what about when the day is smooth sailing? That we need to be praying in the good times just as much as in the bad times because hardship is somewhere around the corner. Overall, I thought the message was real and even though he was preaching from a story that happened thousands of years ago, he made it relatable to our every day lives.

The service ended in a prayer from the pastor with everyone standing up. My friend Vivia had to leave at that point so that she could make a lunch meeting but I stayed through the end. After the service ended I found myself doing my usual exit routine. Little eye contact with people and staying focused on getting to my jeep. Of course, the sweet grandpa greeter shook my hand as I left saying that he was glad I joined them and to that I smiled, shook his hand and said a deep and grateful, thank you. I really meant it too. Not everyone or everyplace is welcoming to new people and shaking his hand and receiving a warm smile was just how I wanted my time there to end. Ending on a sweet note!

As I sat there today I thought to myself, should I end the year with visiting the church I grew up in? How would I look at everything and everyone or better yet, how would they look at me? It will have been about seven years since I last stepped foot in that building. If I thought that touching that hymnal was going to open Pandora’s box, what would it be like to enter into my old church sanctuary?

As of today, I can’t say that I will have the courage to go back, but it is a thought I am going to put on the back burner for now. Maybe by the time the year is winding down I will know whether or not I should make that visit.

The church bulletin’s cover page has Colossians 4:2 written across the front and it says, “Continue in prayer, and watch in the same with thanksgiving.”