For starters, I drove past the church twice without seeing it. It was tucked in behind a grove of trees, with only one old, small sign on the street. And it was being consumed by the forest. When I asked about it, I was told, “everyone knows where we are.”
After driving in, I pulled into what I hoped was a parking spot, then wandered around a peeling-paint building until I tugged on what I thought was the front door, only to find it locked. Again, “everyone” was supposed to know where the front door was.
Once I got inside, pushing my way past friends chatting in the doorway, the people were warm and welcoming.
During the service, they did several things that were unique to their worship style, without any explanation about why they were doing it. Even though I was familiar enough with this type of church to know what was going on, without an explanation even I was taken aback a couple times.