Membership and Mini Marshmallows

My memory isn’t very reliable. On Sunday, as we took our seats at church, Ken pointed to our names in the tri-fold weekly flyer. Five people, including us, were being called up to the front to be accepted as official church members.

The pastor had asked us the previous week, and we’d accepted. Then I had completely forgotten. Fortunately it wasn’t one of those Sundays when I grabbed an extra 20 minutes of sleep and then ran into church with no makeup and no contact lenses, peering out from behind thick eyeglasses. I looked presentable.

In between the singing and the preaching, we went up in front of the congregation to receive special papers of welcome signed by both pastors, and some heartfelt hugs. It was very sweet. Being members is significant in that we are a) counted as church members for statistical purposes and b) we can vote in meetings. Most important, we have symbolically been accepted into the “church family”.

It’s an exciting time to be joining this church, as it (I guess I should get used to saying “we”) we are on the verge of potential major changes. The space is used by our multi-cultural Baptist group in the mornings, and by an English-speaking Korean church in the afternoons. As it stands, the Korean church has been renting the space, but there is now talk of merging the churches. This will create an opportunity for discussions relating to leadership, theology, finances, the structure of the service, etc. It’s not guaranteed that the merger will go ahead, but it will certainly make for an interesting exploration either way.

The Baptist church is top-heavy in terms of the average age of the congregation. There are many white-haired elders, and not enough youngsters to take their place as they grow too old to perform their roles. There are quite a few families with young children, but they can’t step into the roles on the board of directors and sub-committees to run the church; they’re too busy looking after their kids. The community lacks the 20-somethings and new, still-energetic empty-nesters who could contribute time to the cause. The Korean church has many more attendees in those age groups. We need their help. I don’t know what they hope to gain from us, but there must be something.

Immediately after the service we were invited to come to the annual financial meeting, which was taking place along with a potluck lunch in the downstairs gymnasium. We hadn’t signed up or brought food, but we were assured that there would be plenty to go around.

I love the very stereotypical W.A.S.P. comfort foods that show up on the potluck buffet, along with delicacies contributed by our browner* community members of various backgrounds. Lime Jell-O with canned tangerine slices sits next to curried goat. Carrot salad with fruity, pastel-coloured mini-marshmallows on top accompanies chicken teriyaki. Potluck is the absolute best!

Of course the call went out for volunteers to help the church, and Ken and I stepped up. Apparently there are many positions to be filled, and the woman in charge wants to think about where she can use us most. She mentioned that the church is looking to train more deacons. I don’t even fully understand what a deacon is, but the title “deacon” sounds totally cool, so I’ll be looking into that. Deacon Spark – doesn’t that have a ring to it?

* I have had several friends of various or mixed ethnic backgrounds who refer to themselves as “brown”. I hope no one takes offense at the term.