Make The Journey Fun

Earlier this week I took the long way home and found myself sitting at this intersection admiring the view. Like so many times before, I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture for the memory. It’s not a great picture but when I look at it, I recall a cool summer breeze and the sweet taste of lemonade as I casually meandered home.

The memory makes me desperate to hit the road today, tomorrow or really, any day.

I have no weekend plans but am long overdue for adventure. I haven’t decided yet if I should choose a destination or do a fly by the seat of my pants kind of day. That’s where I pull up to an intersection and see which way looks best.

As long as I have my maps and phone I’m never really lost but it sure is freeing to know the journey is the destination.

After all, isn’t that what life is all about? Enjoying whatever the day brings? Take time this long weekend and simply enjoy the journey. Do something unexpected. Make it fun.

Happiness Is….

Happiness is a pretty little church on a beautiful summer day. I passed by this one during the golden hour on Tuesday night and it made me smile.

Happy Thursday, friends.

When A Church Closes

Yesterday brought some bad news. The church my grandfather built will close next month. It’s a Nazarene Church in Chesterhill, Ohio that he pastored a long time ago.

Sermons will cease, the doors will close and the building will be sold by the District. The eighteen souls who pray there will no longer have their community house of worship.

This congregation has been dwindling for some years but they pay their bills on time and faithfully minister to the spiritual needs of those who enter.

My mother is beside herself with grief and worry. It’s a part of our family history but it’s also a good building. It was well built and has been maintained over the years. And yes, it is a small congregation but they are faithful to the church. The nearest Nazarene Church is too far for most of them to drive every week as so many of them are elderly.

She called the District Office yesterday and was more or less humored by someone who listened to her complaint and who provided less than satisfactory answers to her questions. What will happen to those eighteen souls? What would God think of you selling His house?

This isn’t a new or unique problem for small churches and communities across America. I see it all the time in my backroads journeys – these old churches and aging congregations struggle to compete with the new churches and all the modern, fun conveniences they offer.

It’s also hard to survive in a church conference that appears to value money more than souls. That statement may sound harsh and maybe it isn’t fair but that’s how it feels.

But you see it in other areas of small town life. Wander around long enough and you’ll spot the signs of communities being left behind – abandoned hospitals, schools, churches and stores are all too common.

I suppose it’s just a sign of these times but that doesn’t mean we have to like it.

There’s a lot of good in our small communities. What we lack in population and wealth we make up for with fresh air, room to roam, friendly neighbors and kind strangers. Our rush hours involve school buses rather than traffic jams. People here tend to mind their own business until you need them. Then they carry in food when someone dies and offer to help when there’s work to be done.

Our residents tend to feel a sense of place and belonging that comes from knowing your neighbors and from sitting in the same church pew every Sunday for a lifetime.

Too bad there’s no money to be made in local character.

I don’t know what it would take to convince a community of less than 280 people to rally behind the church down the street. But it’s a slippery slope as every loss leads to another. Our small towns like Chesterhill can’t afford to lose anything else.

Longtime readers may recall a story that I wrote a few years ago about a day in the Chesterhill area when we visited this church. You can read it here.

Meanwhile, I fear its days are numbered and there’s nothing I can do to help.

Stained Glass

Stained glass is best viewed from the inside. It’s impressive from the street but extraordinary when the light shines in. This window is from this church I visited in Piqua, Ohio last year.

Stained glass has been documented in churches since the seventh century so there’s a long tradition of using this inspirational art. Not only is it beautiful, the imagery can be used to tell a story.

Rain has moved in so today probably won’t be good for adventures or for seeing light stream through the stained glass of an old church. Wherever you are, I hope you enjoy this day.

Stained Glass

Stained glass is best viewed from the inside. It’s impressive from the street but extraordinary when the light shines in. This window is from this church I visited in Piqua, Ohio last year.

Stained glass has been documented in churches since the seventh century so there’s a long tradition of using this inspirational art. Not only is it beautiful, the imagery can be used to tell a story.

Rain has moved in so today probably won’t be good for adventures or for seeing light stream through the stained glass of an old church. Wherever you are, I hope you enjoy this day.

Green Doors And A History Lesson

Doors often capture my attention and cause me to pause a moment. These green doors are on a beautiful old church in downtown Marietta, Ohio.

Here’s another view.

The doors drew me in but the name above the door is what really captured my attention. You can’t read it in this image but it says Evanangelische St. Paul’s Kirche 1849.

How very German.

And yet, the name on the street sign is just plain old sounding St. Paul’s Evangelical Church.

The historic marker out front wasn’t a ton of help. It informs the passerby that this is the city’s second oldest church. Built in 1849, this kirche or church became St. Paul’s Evangelical in 1872 and that English sermons began in 1909.

One night when I couldn’t sleep I went searching for more information. Turns out that the congregation dates to 1838 when it was called the German Religious Society and was said to serve all the Protestant groups that had left the homeland for this brave new world in America.

This 1838 date makes a lot of sense. The city was built in large part by the German immigrants who arrived with assorted vital skills. The streets were once lined with German owned dry goods stores and butchers, bookstores and cobblers that were built by carpenters and bricklayers all of German heritage.

There would have been great demand for a house of worship.

Unfortunately, the church experienced such decline from the 1970s through the 1990s that they were forced to do some soul searching of sorts. The website says they “embarked on a deliberate pilgrimage of redevelopment in 1998.”

I can’t help but wonder how they’re doing today. I photograph a lot of abandoned churches and some with small congregations that are struggling to compete with the big mega churches that focus on recreation and activities.

Covid certainly hasn’t helped, driving people home to stay safe. Some are offering online services, drive-in services or socially distanced outdoor services where congregants are asked to BYOC. I saw that on a sign once and it took me a minute to figure out it’s “bring your own chair.”

A far cry from BYOB parties.

The Christian thing to do is to love thy neighbor by steering clear of them but I wonder what longterm effect will be had on aging congregations.

Hopefully that won’t be an issue for this one as I always root for the historic and the unique. This kirche certainly fits that bill.

In case you’re interested, Marietta is home to a number of beautiful and historic churches including this basilica I wrote about over the summer.