Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Tom and I try to go home again

Capital Church: 10th East and 7th South


Tom and I decided to go to a worship meeting at the Capital Church in Salt Lake.  Not because we were looking for a new church, but because this building used to be the Emigration Ward building where we grew up, and where my father was bishop for ten years.  It looks much the same as it did when it was a Mormon Church except there is a gold, clean cross on the steeple.  It hasn't been a Mormon Church for 30 years.

Anyway, we wanted to see the inside.  We hoped the chapel was similar with those white varnished benches.  Teenagers and college students sat on the left side in the back.  It was a great ward in the fifties and sixties.

We parked in front of what used to be the Goodrow's house and walked up the parking lot.  The downstairs door we used to go through was locked, so we walked around to the side door, which was close to the pulpit and was not used much, because everyone saw you when you walked in late.

The whole church had been gutted.  What used to be the chapel is now a coffee bar.  Seriously, it was like Starbucks and people bought coffee and then went to sit down in what used to be the recreation hall.  The stage had been redesigned with steps leading up to it across the front.

The band was tuning up as we sat down: Three electric guitars, one piano, one electronic keyboard and a huge set of drums inside a plexiglass room of its own.  The room filled up and the meeting began.  We were casually welcomed and invited to stand to sing.  The hymns were soft rock, the words lit up on a jumbo screen to the right.  

I liked singing with a band, if you want to know the truth.  But I didn't like standing for nearly a half an hour while we did so.  All the music was about Jesus and being saved.  The drums made you want to dance, but no one did.

Then we took a ten minute break.  Everyone got up for more coffee and meandered back.  A man in his forties, casually dressed, gave us a sermon about maintaining Jesus as the "foundation" of our "building."  He illustrated this by using a Jenga game set on a stool.  He pulled out pieces to show how life sent us surprises when we thought we were stable.  As long as we had a strong foundation we would flourish even in bad times.  It was an optimistic, Christian message.  Scriptures from a Bible I didn't recognize (casual, colloquial) appeared on the jumbo screen.

It reminded me of my electrician father giving talks using light bulbs and such as illustrations.

We spoke with one man, who greeted us and told us 1000 members from all over the valley attended church here each week.  (They have three services to choose from).  Everyone was very friendly.  People greeted and hugged each other.

Community.  That's what it's all about.  Community and love of each other and the gospel.  And drums.  I think we could include a drum now and then.  I didn't see any panty hose and I wasn't wearing them either.



2 comments:

  1. Thanks for the post, Louise. I love the look of that building. And it pleases me to think of your father presiding there.

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