“Travelers’ Rest” the sign read. It was a Missionary Baptist Church in St. Petersburg, Florida, where my wife and I spend a few months each winter. After four hard days on the road driving from Maine to Florida, the sign held a certain restorative appeal. A few days later, another church sign caught our eye: Mount Zion Primitive Baptist Church.
“Primitive”? Just what could that mean? Strange images filled our heads. A little research revealed the word “Primitive” in the name simply meant the congregants adhered to the original teachings and methods of the early church rather than the more modern church traditions. No human sacrifices or stake burnings.
Exploring more we came across other creatively named houses of worship. Oftentimes they were private homes, humble and painted bright tropical colors, converted into Houses of God. Many of these churches were in predominantly Black communities and, not surprisingly, most were Southern Baptist or evangelical.
Some of the better church names included: Radiant Church (you could almost sense its spiritual glow); Temple of Love & Healing (kind of a late ’60s vibe); Reliance Church (you can always count on it); Connect2Christ Church (maybe Prince attended); St. Pete Vineyard Church (surely they made their own wine); Real Church (wouldn’t have any other kind); Faith Church (simple and direct). I could go on and on.
I’m not a traditionally religious person. I can’t remember the last time I went to church. But I think I’d like to step into many of these creatively named houses of worship, if for no other reason just to see what they’re all about, what’s going on behind those open-to-the-public doors.
Spiritually I think of myself as an open-minded skeptic. By that I mean I tend not to believe in miracles and other literal interpretations of the Bible. It just doesn’t conform with my basically rational self. Yet, at the same time, what do I know? What does anyone really know about these things. The world (especially at the subatomic quantum level) is a pretty strange, counterintuitive place. I think the best argument for the existence of God is that anything exists at all. I mean, why should it, without some overriding intelligence at work behind the scenes?
I spent a few years attending a Unitarian-Universalist Church in western Massachusetts. I enjoyed the community and the church’s commitment to social justice. While many deeply religious folks don’t consider the U-U Church to be a true House of God, I found it to be both very spiritual and very sensible, what I called The Church of Reason. I left the church when an internecine battle drove out the minister, who I liked very much. I haven’t joined another church since.
So, what’s in a name? Especially the name of a religious institution? I’m still thinking about that. But as a former marketing professional, I know that names matter. Every traveler needs to hear that there is a place to rest down the road.
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