Worship in Shoshoni , followed by buffalo September 13, 2015

I worshipped this morning with the small congregation in Shoshoni. There were thirteen of us altogether. Joe Norris  is ending his term as the Commissioned Ruling Elder. (Presbyterian ministers are technically called Teaching Elders. Members of the congregation who are elected to the session, the congregation's governing body, are called Ruling Elders. Occasionally, when  a church can not support a Teaching Elder, a Ruling Elder is given special training and is commissioned  to lead  the congregation in worship: i.e., s/he is a Commissioned Ruling Elder. Such is Joe.) I was privileged to worship with them during one of his  final services. Joe has a very quiet and dignified way of leading worship. The small congregation sings well (a pianist from the Baptist church worships with them every week), and the service is traditional Presbyterian. This means they say the traditional version of the Apostles' Creed, use debts instead of  trespasses, and are in general, not attuned to the importance of gender neutral language. I am old enough to find the familiar words easy to say and  do not take umbrage. I understand that other people may prefer more inclusive  language. But this is seldom a great issue in a congregation. Still, more traditional congregations generally use more traditional language.

This congregation also sang hymns from the older (1955) hymn book. It had been a long  time since I sang "Wonderful Words of Life."

After worship, the  entire congregation sat around a large table for coffee and  peach cobbler, with ice cream What more can one ask?

The drive  from Shoshoni to Greybull, where I am now, was spectacular.  There have been very few drives in my itinerary that have not been  spectacular. Spectacular is the Wyoming normal.  I know that I annoy other drivers by poking along at 60 miles an hour, trying  to watch the road while I watch the scenery.

I  stopped in Thermopolis to have a look at Hot Springs State Park, home of the  largest mineral hot springs in the world, they say. It was part of the Shoshone reservation until early in  this century, and had served as a sacred spot for them, until it was purchased by the US Government for $60,000. Chef Washakie had carved out his own bathtub there. Part of the purchase agreement was that the springs would always be open to everyone for free. I forwent soaking, but I did a lot of walking, buoyed by the invigorating smell of sulfur.Then  I took a drive in the bison preserve ("Buffalo are dangerous" the sign says) where I got as close to a buffalo as I ever want to. You will see from this picture how close. I took the picture from the safety of my car.

There was a whole herd of them, including calves, behind this one.

Now I am ensconced in the Historic Greybull Hotel, and I will visit the Greybull and Shell churches tomorrow.