I went to the smallest and most intimate church I’ve ever attended yesterday. I felt as if I had come home.

The other day, I talked with Jim Cramer, Pastor of Cambridge’s small and close-knit independent church, Cambridge Cornerstone East, yesterday and asked him if it would be okay if I attended the Church services this morning.

He said sure,  Jim is also the President of the Cambridge Pantry Board.

The church is small – about a dozen people. Pastor Jim says he likes it that way.

I liked him right away, also.

He is soft-spoken and quiet, free of the bombast and bone-rattling dogma that afflicts so many priests, pastors, and rabbis. The church has a wonderful intimacy about it. I can feel the quiet.

Everyone knew everyone else, was obviously comfortable with them, and worshipped close to one another. They prayed for one another and for their sick relatives and friends. Some of the older women struggled to get there; it was important to them.

Everyone got a chance to speak and ask questions.

Pastor Jim is deeply religious, but the hour-long service was without tension, guilt, scolding, or pressure.

The service had a very country vibe, a mix of Pentecostal and Quaker Meeting.

I was comfortable there, and several people welcomed me; they knew who I was. The church is attached to the Cambridge Pantry, but the pantry does not emphasize any single faith, just the idea of loving each other.

When I took Jim up on the invitation to his tiny and community-minded church this morning, I felt curiously as if I had come home. I thought I needed to get permission, but I’m only sometimes welcome everywhere I go, and this was a pleasant surprise.

They made sure I felt welcome.

When I walked in, it got off to a great start.  Dor Lisa, an aide I got to know well at the Mansion (she now works driving school buses and loves it), jumped up and rushed over to hug me. “Jon Katz,” she said, “has a Jesus Heart,” she shouted, and I took that as a great compliment and almost cried.

We rushed into one another’s arms for a big bear hug. I was overjoyed to see her.

Dora Lisa has the biggest heart of any human that I know. She was running all of the tech.

Another congregation member mentioned the great work the Army of Good is doing to the pantry.  I was proud of that.

 

Jim is a low-key pastor, but his love of Jesus, the Bible, and the congregants is straightforward and profound.

Dora Lisa was working the TV screen and audio system that almost every church now has, and she sang some hymns beautifully to start the services. We were both delighted to find one another again.

No one had any illusions about me. I’m not a born or converted Christian, but I find some wisdom and learning in every church I visit. I hope to return to this one often. I find the comfort, sense of community,  faith, and intimacy powerful.

Pastor Jim read from several Bible verses, and I was given a church meeting “cheat cheat” called “Redeeming Your Time.” The topic of today’s sermon is a series of principles about using one’s time wisely.

Principle Number Three caught my attention; it was especially timely and titled “Dissent from The Kingdom of Noise,” an incredibly timely and apt issue in modern America.

I’m always a bit sorry to see big TV screens in churches, and this one was so small it seemed almost out of place.

But that’s just me. I got the most out of the individual stories people told and prayers that they asked for, as well as from Pastor Jim’s cautions about wasting our time with things that are not important or disturbing.

“To redeem our time in the model of our Redeemer,” he read, “we must accept our unipresence and focus on one important thing at a time.” This sounded a bit like Buddhism, mindfulness, and living in the now. Jesus, he said, used his time well and thoughtfully.

Every time I visit a church, I hear or feel something I can take home with me and think about. Jim’s idea of separating from the Kingdom of Noise is relevant to my life and our lives. We all struggle to sort through the tsunami of messages, arguments, violence, hostility, and division from our devices.

Pastor Jim offered a different vision I wanted to consider in my meditation.

I didn’t have time for the light food served after the service, but I felt the people’s love, faith, and simplicity.

I want to go back there regularly and soak up more of that feeling, a sense of the iconic faith and community that has always appealed to me since I moved to the country. I only felt it in a Quaker Meeting in New Jersey, but it felt good to feel it again. One of the people in the church had read my blog and offered a prayer to heal spider bites.

My connection to the food pantry has been good for me and them.

The Army of Good has rallied to the cause, and so have I. The pantry has been essential to me for a few months now; I love the purpose, devotion, and conviction it engenders. I also love the powerful sense of humanity and community it attracts. What could be better than helping people experiencing poverty get good food to eat?

I look forward to getting to know Pastor Jim better. H takes good care of his small block.  He’s the real deal, and the church is a real place of worship, faith, and love.

I felt love in that church from the minute I walked in there, and that’s what it’s all about.

And isn’t it what we all need?