Since we’ve made the move to a small-ish village community (well, since we’re making the move - still waiting on solicitors) there’s been a fair bit of adjustment going on to different ways of doing things.
Sunday was the annual Harvest Thanksgiving at our church, and it caught me a little by surprise. I’ve only ever really spent time in what you would call city, or at least suburban, churches. In those places harvest celebration has been a bit of a tradition and a bit of a formality, but not much more than that. Here it is very different.
Each service (including the extra one) was packed almost out the door, with an atmosphere and enthusiasm that I can only really compare to what I’ve experienced at Christmas in other churches. Which when I thought about it made sense: this is still a community where there are plenty of those who rely on the harvest for their living in a much more immediate way than your average city-dweller. The sense of a community celebration gave a little bit of insight into what is at the heart of the place.
I’ve coming away feeling like I understand where I am that bit better, and I’m glad of it.