Christianity / Faith / Family / Methodist / Parenting

Back to church with baby. A nailbiter.

Back into the den of lions, I mean the church. Last week was Gavin’s first time going to a church of our choosing. He has been to my parents church for Christmas Eve service. Who doesn’t love Christmas Eve service? The candles, the songs, the sermon about why you shouldn’t give presents, aw the fond memories. Anyways, last week was nothing like that. We decided to go back to a Methodist church, that I loved and Gabe didn’t.

Last time we were there they had a woman speaking. Gabe is a traditionalist see, he was not ready to hear a woman pastor even if it was only part-time. I, on the other hand, thought she was great. The people were kind, as far as we noticed, and the church felt like church to us- hymns, pews, no call and response or hand waving. Give us a break we’re still recovering being raised Baptist. I feel it will be a lifelong struggle. I also was willing to accept that the Methodist church believes that one can lose salvation. As long as you believe it with reasonably sourced Scripture, we’re cool in my book. After way too many churches, Gabe was finally ready to compromise and head on back here, even if a woman was at the pulpit.

There was not a woman at the pulpit. Mind you, there was no one at the pulpit. There was no one in the nursery. And let me tell you, I did not mind that one bit! The pastor (male, phew.) and his wife were having a seated discussion on marriage. Something I may actually be able to use in real life kind of sermon? Neat. They had an informal discussion with each other and allowed us to listen in as they talked about commitment to God and to loving your spouse. My son stayed with us in the pews while we listened to them talk. When he started exposing me to the church, I left to find the nursery. A small sitting room just outside of the sanctuary was labeled nursery. It had two comfortable chairs and a speaker so you could listen to the sermon. I enjoy that. I like that I am not pressured in any way to leave my son in a nursery with people I don’t know, and he doesn’t know. But I am instead invited to keep him with me, or sit in the nursery. I wouldn’t feel out of place breastfeeding him in the sanctuary. That is to take into consideration that should anyone lodge a complaint about me breastfeeding anywhere, I am a lioness. It just felt, thought, as if no one would even mind. That’s nice.

After the sermon, many people greeted us and complimented us on our adorable baby boy. He smiled and hid his face at appropriately cute times. What a doll. When we got to the car, Gabe asked me in his usual way, “So what do we think?” He seemed surprised when I said I liked it. As you can probably imagine, I can be a little demanding of cerebral sermons. ” A sermon I may actually use in my daily life is a welcome one.” I replied to him. We’re going back again assuming my little one is up at a suitable time. Never wake a sleeping baby!

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