By 8:00 a.m. a few people had gathered for worship. Basil had previously informed me that many people come late to church. Over the years, the church has had to decide between being rigid about coming on time or not at all, or welcoming people whenever they could get there. I’m glad they opted for the later. By 8:30 the congregation had swelled from about 9 people to probably around 50. A few more children arrived after that as parents dropped them off closer to 9 (don’t forget, the children stay in church for the whole time of worship and then go for an hour of
It was time for my “Children’s Time” and I surprised them by inviting all the young people up to the front. I had stickers for them and openly admitted my pale attempts of bribery. The children asked questions of my family and my church. I always find it so calming to talk with children, ev
en if you have to be ready for the most profound questions or answers. We then talked a few minutes about who they could go to for encouragement when they had a challenge of some kind. They had their list – friends, family, teachers, pastors. I summarized the Transfiguration Story from the angle of the human Jesus needed a lot of encouragement to go forward into
The service included hymns that were in The United Church’s ‘Voices United’ as well as the Methodist Hymnbook. I shared this with the congregation, noting that music is often the way in which we can touch the universal Body of Christ. My sermon was in a simple story-telling format. (My last pastoral charge encouraged me to develop that style as they found it a very accessible way for whatever the message might be. My interview team for ordination further challenged me to develop my sermons with “the Bible in one hand and life in the other”.)
Before I knew it, it was 9:45 and the last hymn was being sung. And my goodness, was it being sung! That is certainly one thing I have noticed over and over again – those gathered for worship sing with such gusto – full harmonies, bodies engaged, and faces expressing the feelings – what w
onderful moments to witness.
After church and many kind words of welcome, it was time for the children to start rehearsing for their Harvest Cantata. As the mom’s were busy handing out poems and readings to individual children to memorize, I found myself looking after the 2 youngest children – a little boy of 11 months and a young girl of about 3 years. That was a treat for me and the mom’s were very grateful for that help so that they could focus on the other children.
By 11 a.m. things seemed to be coming together for the children and it was time to go home. Older children scurried to the cookie jar and all shared some snacks and relaxed. We had to wait
about 10 minutes to leave to building because, as it often does, the sky just opened up and it poured! The children were grumbling because it felt cold to them so I shared them stories of the snowfall back in 
made this rain feel very warm to me. They looked at me a little strange when I teased them about asking my family to mail some snowballs to them. But quickly the young boys caught the idea of how much fun it would be to have a snowball fight and they began an imitation one! The rain stopped and we all went outside in various directions to our homes.
The afternoon was quiet after lunch. I enjoyed the side garden, a little bit of sun and the sounds of life. Before I knew it, it was time to get ready for the harvest cantata at
The service was enjoyable with a large mixture of younger and older participating. The church smelled of citrus fruits and breads and the children were delightful to watch. The oldest member of the congregation (late 80’s?) came up and sang a song that somehow transported me into my imagings of life 100 years ago when songs gave hope and songs were a gift that were shared in the midst of hardships. The man then played a hymn on his harmonica and it reminded me of my own extended family and their roots in “Down East” music (East Coast music with its strong Celtic influences).
The evening finished and I became somewhat anxiously aware that it was quickly getting dark and I needed to drive everyone home yet! Stepping quickly into the parking lot, I soon realized that quickness was not needed. The whole parking lot was jammed and blocked – we were not going to be moving anywhere soon. There was nothing to do but try and relax and say a few prayers for safety. After 20 minutes or so, there were some encouraging movements of a few vehicles. We got in the car and were directed out into a little laneway where I inched between bushes and cars. A deep breath and we were on the main road. This part of the drive was not so bad because we were in the City with its street lights and traffic lights. Then came the turn onto the country road! To have some appreciation of the challenges, one needs to know that there are no shoulders, no line marking, often just rock walls on the left and car lights appearing around bends out of nowhere (and left-hand driving!). I drove painfully slow through the countryside but the women were very encouraging. Made it back to South District and was relieved to some degree knowing that the road back to Rose Hill w
as generally wider and lit up by houses in many spots along the way.
When I got back, I sighed with relief and said a quick prayer of thanks – I am sure that Basil and Mary were very relieved as well. That journey sapped me of any remaining energy from a long day. A quick call home to my family and I was ready for bed! But it was good day, a very good day – till next time,
Blessings!
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