Church Tradition Story 5: Beatles and Hair

One time, I went to a party at Chauncey's house--Chauncey is Lee's son--and Chauncey told stories about growing up in Canada. I remember something about killing a moose and jumping a tremendous distance on a machine. (Authentic Canadians refer to snowmobiles simply as machines, as in, "Would you mind running such-and-such an errand?" "Of course not, I'll just hop on my machine.") I forget if Chauncey actually did kill a moose or do the jump on the machine, because these were from two of his statements from the game, two truths and a lie, and Chauncey is amazing at that game.

What I do remember from Chauncey's storytelling that I'm sure is true are a couple of his stories about the eccentricities of living in a small Mennonite community out in the wild.

Chauncey went to a small Christian school. They weren't allowed to listen to rock and roll. There was even a record in the school library that was about how terrible rock music is. It had two-second clips from Beatles songs, to illustrate how evil rock is. Chauncey would go to the library, borrow the record, and listen to those clips a lot.

These Mennonites interpreted I Corinthians 11:2-16 literally; this passage teaches that women should pray with their heads covered, but men should pray with their heads uncovered and should have short hair. One time, a visitor came to their church, his hair went just below the tops of his ears. Chauncey turned to his mother, Genny, and asked, "Mommy, is that man a Christian?"

Church Tradition Story 4: Projector Trees Clap

When I was four years old, we had a party at church for a stranger. My four-year old self could figure out that he was important. I didn't know why everyone liked him so much. I was afraid of him, because I thought his name was Mr Witch, and I knew witches are spooky.

It turned out his name was Mr Rich, as in Richard. He was the new youth pastor.

The church was a traditional Presbyterian church, with wooden pews and a pipe organ and choir loft. We were told not to run in church, because it's God's house. People dressed up, Dad would wear a sport coat and Mom would wear a dress. We sang out of hymnals.

Mr Rich brought special music to the church. On the one Sunday out of the month that we would sing this special music with Mr Rich, (in addition to the hymns), he would bring out a portable screen and an overhead projector. Because we could see the words on the screen, and didn't need hymnals, we could clap along with Mr Rich's songs! My favorite song had a line,

The trees of the fields will clap their hands X X

The X's indicated when we were supposed to clap.

I liked Mr Rich. He was fun, and had a big, hearty laugh. He knew how to play the trumpet. Mr Rich invited us to camp, where he led us in playing crazy games, like bowling with a ball that was bigger than me. Of all the grown-ups, his lessons on Christianity were the funniest.

A few years later, Mr Rich got fired--there was some sort of personality conflict among the leadership, and I think that he was fired for unfair reasons. As he packed up the overhead screen for the last time, one of the old church ladies said, "Good. I could never worship with that thing up there."

The last I heard, Mr Rich had become a truck driver.

Church Tradition Story 3: Imago Dei

One time, Greg and I were hanging out with a group called Imago Dei. We went to a Celtic festival with them, but I'm not sure how that's relevant to the story.

Anyway, Greg and I had just met Imago Dei, but we didn't know what it was, so we asked Gary.
"It's us!"
"I mean, are you affiliated with a church or something?"
"I guess you could say that we are a church, but we prefer to think of ourselves as an intentional community. We aren't just about what happens on Sunday morning, we actually care about each other, and go through life together."

We talked about appropriate grounding for theological orthodoxy, I gave my "The Bible is not the word of God, Jesus is the Word" rant, and Gary nodded vigorously. I'm always a little terrified when my opinions on Christianity are taken seriously, so I asked Gary if Imago Dei is Emerging, and he said no, rather emphatically.

Imago Dei is a pretty neat intentional community. When we stopped at a gas station, a hat was passed around, and everyone shared as much money as they wanted to, which seems like a friendlier system than dividing up the bill exactly equally. When we got pizza, later, the hat got passed again. Pierre had given extra cash for gas, but didn't have any for pizza--no worries! We shared.

So we were sitting around, eating pizza, and Greg and I were asking some more questions about Imago Dei. Greg asked Jay where they meet; "Oh, we meet in homes," Jay said.
"So, you're a house church?" I asked.
"No, no, we're not a house church."
"If you grow big enough, would you get a building?"
"That's where our valuing multiplication comes in. If our group gets to be too big for us to have this sense of intimacy that we have now, we'll split."
"So you'll always be meeting in houses."
"Probably, yes"
"But you're not a house church."
"That's right."

Then, Greg asked, "Is there someone who's in charge?"
"Well, I'm the overseer."
"Oh, so you're the bishop."
"I guess you could say that I'm the episcopos, that's the Greek word for overseer, in the Bible."
"You're the bishop."
"Yes, I'm the episcopos."
"You're the bishop."
"I'm the episcopos."

Also, everyone in Imago Dei mentioned how much healing they experienced by reading John Eldredge's books; some spent a week with Eldredge in the middle of the woods in Colorado. I'm not sure how that's relevant to the story.

***

Edgy church breaks old rules, insists on new ones

Church Tradition Story 2: Lightbulb Evangelism

I've heard that the Brethren in Christ commonly have "evangelistic services" at 7 PM each Sunday, which is curious, because the services aren't particularly evangelistic, they're just regular Sunday-night church services. Few remember why these services are called evangelistic. In the 1800's, when electricity and incandescent lights were bleeding-edge technology, many churches in this denomination paid dearly to have electric light bulbs installed in their sanctuaries. Then, they started having extra services after dark, so one could invite one's non-Christian friend, saying, "Why don't you come to church, to see the lightbulb?"

Church Tradition Story 1: Dismissal of the Catechumens

There is a part in the Orthodox Divine Liturgy called the Dismissal of the Catechumens, in which the priest chants, "All ye catechumens, depart! Depart, ye catechumens! All ye that are catechumens, depart! Let no catechumens remain!" and this used to be important, because it would have been terrible for an outsider to see and misunderstand the meaning of the eucharist, when the early church was undergoing persecution. Now, the words remain, but it's understood that no one is expected to actually leave--it's just a tradition. However, some Orthodox churches today have problems with visitors leaving halfway through the service, not knowing that the Dismissal of the Catechumens is vestigial.

As Orthodox churches assimilate into American culture, the services shift from using the congregation's heart language to the English language, with some parts in one language, and some in the other. I've heard of a Romanian Orthodox church in DC that has its services entirely in English, except the Dismissal of the Catechumens is in Romanian, so no one leaves by mistake.