Confessions of an Unemployed
Minister - Part Ten : The Basement Church
The delightful experience of seeing God do some astonishing things
through our church plant being hosted in the basement of the very church I had
attended as a youth has been a fun adventure. We determined from the beginning
to be in a kind of partnership with our host church. These old saints were some
of the very people who had been my Sunday school teachers and my parent’s
friends. Their children had been in my own Sunday school classes, youth groups
and Young Life clubs. It was like a home coming for me.
At the beginning we met in the basement at the same time (10am) as
the old saints met upstairs. I told the United Church minister that it was a
beautiful experience for us when, during a quiet moment in our congregational
prayers, we could hear them singing their hymns upstairs. I said it was like
hearing the angels above us. She said that they had a similar experience.
Sometimes, during their quiet prayers, they could hear our drums and choruses
in the basement. She said it was like hearing the demons below them.
She was joking! We had a wonderful mutual respect. We even shared
coffee time in the basement after our services. We had to make sure we ended
promptly, as they wasted no time heading to the basement for their traditional
post-service coffee and treats. Sometimes they finished early and gathered at
the back of the basement watching us finish off. It must have been a mystery to
these old saints why a growing number of young people were gathering in their
basement each week. We also transformed their basement each week into as close
of a proximity to our beach experience as we could. Artists had designed a
setting of beach blankets, large photos, and even an old log on which we had
sat to preach our sermons on the beach. All of this got put away each week,
usually before the “angels from above” descended for coffee. Then we would
share coffee together; several generations mingling and getting to know and
love one another over the following months.
We found other ways to be united in our mutual support. We joined
forces to help them with their annual Spring Fair. We added our own talents to
their traditional event. We brought in extra artisans and a local high school
band and I volunteered to play host on the roving microphone. We had church
suppers together. We held seasonal services together celebrating Advent,
Christmas Eve, Ash Wednesday, Lent, and Good Friday together. We celebrated
communion on the same Sundays, and even swapped pastors to celebrate the
elements for each other’s congregations. Our people took over organizing the
weekly coffee time. We did some building and grounds maintenance for them.
Sometimes I felt like our group was the teenagers living in their
grandparent’s basement. We helped with chores around the place in exchange for
cheap rent and generous use of their space. A real love and respect grew
between our two churches as we shared life and faith together. Unfortunately
the host church had already come to the place of deciding to close and
amalgamate with another United Church. Some hoped that our church plant could
partner with them to keep their congregation going. But, the decision was made
to close that church. We determined to do what we could for their remaining
time to love and support them through their final stages of life, and to enjoy
whatever time we had left being a united church with them.
