Other churches

When I travel, I like to visit other people’s churches.

Sometimes I like to visit churches in my own tradition or denomination. Sometimes I like to visit churches that are very different from my home church.

When I visit churches in my own tradition, I am comforted by the familiarity. I love the notion of having brothers and sisters in all parts of the world. I love the acceptance and welcome I find among these people who are strangers – and yet so familiar.

I am endlessly curious to see the many nuances of worship and community in these other churches that sport the same name on the sign out front. I read their bulletins and listen to their announcements with great interest. I often get new ideas for my own church’s ministries and activities.

In addition to the blessings associated with the corporate worship, I appreciate the opportunity to see what our churches look like through the eyes of a visitor. By noticing what makes me feel welcome or uncomfortable, I gain insight on how to help visitors to my church back home feel more at ease.

But as I said, I also like to visit churches that are very different from my normal Sunday morning experience. I know about various segments of Christianity, but I have not had many chances to experience those other churches first hand. I suppose that my lack of exposure to those other traditions is largely due to the fact that I am so very involved with my own church. In any case, I find it fascinating to have the chance to attend services in these other houses of worship, to see the variations on the theme.

Earlier this month, I was in a city in another country on Sunday morning. I did a little research on churches within walking distance of the hotel and decided on a cathedral about eight blocks away. My usual approach is to try to fit in with the crowd while not getting in the way of the members who usually attend there. Furthermore, I want to worship; I don’t want to be a tourist at church.

On this occasion, I attended a very formal “high church” sitting toward the back, where I admired the stunning architecture, the glorious stained-glass windows, and the angelic voices of the boys’ choir. I smelled the incense. I found my place in the book and joined in the responses of those around me.

As always when I visit a church that is strange to me, the experience was enlightening and thought-provoking. I worshiped God in their tradition and felt uplifted, benefitting from the changed perspective and unfamiliar cadence.