They were somewhere in western Minnesota when in the far distance a little white church turned onto the road and made its way along the route they were intending to ride.

From far away, the church looked like a Coast Guard cutter sailing on the open prairie.

Stopping to consider their alternatives, paper maps were of no use, since they were so deep into the day’s off-the-grid route. Not even Augustus’s Garmin was of any help. Going back would cost them around two hours and one hundred miles.

So they decided to wait and watch.

Dismounting, they walked alongside the church as it crawled several hundred yards along the town’s one and only unmarked street. They sauntered past the Good Ol’ Days Bar & Grill, Tup’s quickie market, a bank and a closed gas station and a combo cafe and coffee shop. There were plenty of signs of what for this trip had become the standard – dilapitated buildings that had been put up for sale long ago never finding a buyer.

Locals were as interested in this church on wheels as they were in these leather clad pedestrian strangers, asking friendly-like what they were doing. The riders in turn asked what was going on.

The townsfolk said that this Episocpal church had stood on its footings for over a century just outside of town. It was the oldest-known church still standing north of St Cloud. The congregation had dwindled, the boiler had broken, and there was no money to repair the furnace let alone to maintain the stained glass windows.

But the farming community’s citizens were focused on hanging on and determined to start something new. The town and the congregants struck an unusual deal. The closing of this church’s doors would mean the opening of new ones. But first it meant sealing the sacred space off from profane uses in the future like alcohol or hookah bar, fast food restaurant, gym and the like.

This prairie sailing ship was about to become the centerpiece of a planned community center.

“We have no auditorium, no lecture hall, no youth center, no senior center, no movie house.” said one middle-aged women to Steve. The church had been deconsecrated five years earlier and was redeeded to a local nonprofit group “with the idea that the church would be reused.”

After five years of fund raising, enough money was in hand to move and repurpose the old church.

“It’s even gonna have art gallery.”

Recycling a house of Christ under dark grey skies of economic woe was not only an astounding image but a wonderfully uplifting idea and feeling that brought peace to all who observed it that day.

Copyright © 2017 From My Isle Seat