This past weekend our synod held its annual assembly. Hundreds of Lutherans journeying across northwest Minnesota to a Lutheran liberal arts college in my hometown, our regional version of Mecca.

Three days of electing a bishop, big meetings, theology lectures and breakout workshops.

At one of the big group gatherings late in the day Saturday, I was sitting at a table in the back of the room when I noticed a root beer barrel candy on the table. Placed there, of course, by the skilled assembly organizers who know distractions are necessary.

With no more reason than I was fidgety after two days of sitting, I grabbed the candy, unwrapped it and popped it into my mouth.

As the sugary goodness began to melt, I was instantly transported back 40-plus years to the church I grew up in. Just a small neighborhood church, sitting not more than 50 in my mind’s recollection. Albeit, memories are hazy as the last time I was there was four decades ago.

My Grandma Mabel, my dad’s mom, in her dyed and coiffed black hairdo, polyester pants suits and ’80s era eyeglasses, used root beer barrels and other varieties of candy essentially as bribes to keep me from fussin’ too much and drawing the ire of other church ladies.

Personally, my favorite was the cherry sour balls. At the rate that Grandma was willing to dispense those neon sugar bombs to keep this kid quiet, you’d wonder why I still don’t glow red from all that dye!

To be fair: I wasn’t the most compliant church-goin’ kid. I didn’t much care for Sunday school, and the church services seemed interminable. Even worse, as the youngest in the family by six years, my other siblings had pretty much already given up church attendance.

That meant I flew solo, and it was either sit with Mom … or with “Grandma G.” as we called her. (She later remarried after my grandfather passed from ALS.)

And let’s face it … Grandma G. always had candy. So what’s a guy to do? Sorry Mom!

Quickly, other memories came back too on Saturday, coming in rapid fire succession after the sugary time machine took me back.

Admittedly, I wasn’t a biblical scholar when I finally was emancipated from Sunday school. But I do remember the Christmas pageants being dressed up as a barn animal, my mother’s warbling voice singing all the familiar hymns, the wonderment of why I couldn’t have communion, the stained glass window behind the altar.

Friends … that, to me, is the power of gathering together as church. Not all of us leave church inspired by the sermon, or the liturgy nor maybe even the hymns. But I do bet most of us walk away with fond memories of the community time spent each week.

So, what’s your root beer barrel story? Amen.

Devlyn Brooks is the CEO of Churches United in Moorhead, Minn., and an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America serving Faith Lutheran Church in Wolverton, Minn. He blogs about faith at findingfaithin.com, and can be reached at devlynbrooks@gmail.com.