May 23, 2024

On Sunday I came across a place I had not seen for a long time. I was in Princeton NJ for the installation service of Rev. Dr. Kirk Johnson at Christ Congregation there.  On my way to the church, I came to the corner of Washington and Nassau streets, a major intersection, and directly in my sightline was the Princeton United Methodist Church. The moments at the stoplight afforded me time to reflect on the time in the early nineties when I lived in nearby Plainsboro, formerly a rural community (the birthplace of Borden’s “Elsie the Cow” for those of you who remember that famous mascot) that is today a bustling outer ring suburb of New York City. I immensely enjoyed living in this part of Central Jersey because of its proximity both to New York City and Philadelphia. Moreover, it was in and of itself a more tranquil and beautiful part of the Garden State with smaller cities and towns surrounded by farmlands.

Seeing Princeton United Methodist Church brought forth another memory while living in Central Jersey.  It was the early nineties, a time when the AIDS pandemic was so great that it was the leading cause of death for all Americans between the ages of 25-44 years old.  It was also a time when the welcome of congregations to those of us in the LGBTQ+ communities ranged from ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ to downright hostility. That was my experience in part as I visited churches in mainline and non-mainline denominations in Princeton and nearby places in the area. Given the times, I had determined that I would attend and perhaps join a church, but only as an anonymous ‘bench warmer’ with no expectation of any affirmation or participation in the life of that church.

Then my search for a church home brought me to Princeton United Methodist Church.  I first attended the more formal 11 AM worship, but then found the early 8:30 AM worship in the church’s chapel. And I stayed. The service was more intimate, more informal, and, as a ‘morning person’, I loved the early start which, especially in the summer, enabled me to go to the Jersey Shore an hour or so away or have a leisurely afternoon of volleyball and barbecue at my complex. There was one challenge. It was difficult to be anonymous in a small space with an average of ten to fifteen people attending worship, especially being the sole person of color there. So, I had no option but to participate in the life of that small chapel service.  But the welcome and affirmation I received there was instrumental in renewing my hope for the Church and being a part of it again.

Looking back on seeing Princeton United Methodist Church, I believe it was no accident that my travels led me there on the way to Christ Congregation for the installation service. That church was part of my spiritual journey that eventually led me to the Riverside Church and the United Church of Christ. I also believe it was no accident that I saw Princeton United Methodist Church on Pentecost.  Earlier this month, the Holy Spirit moved in the United Methodist Church in an historic vote to repeal bans of LGBTQ+ clergy and same gender marriage.  Seeing Princeton United Methodist Church, on Pentecost, reminded me that the mighty wind of the Holy Spirit goes where It wills.  It is still at work, creating and renewing, as said in our UCC Statement of Faith, the church of Jesus Christ. And thanks be to God, neither one, nor a multitude of human beings, can stop or quench It.