In Junior high I had a friend named Sheri, who was a Christian, she said, a real one. She asked me to go to church with her when I was thirteen. There was a band playing and lots of snacks. She said the boys in the band were really cute. She said that the music was good and then afterwards there were skits and only a very short sermon. It didn’t sound so bad, being saved.
In the church there was a ruby red carpet and checkered tablecloths. It was set up like a cheap coffeehouse. There were pimply preteens everywhere. The band was okay. I remember wishing we could all just sit down in our chairs, I didn’t understand why we all had to stand with our hands in the air, and why no one was looking at the band, but at the ceiling instead. About halfway through the show I realized that people weren’t dancing; they were swaying and praying, and half of them were crying. I felt my face getting red again, the kind of red that it only gets in church.
After the band played some girls did a skit. One of the girls didn’t devote herself to Jesus. Her friend was begging her to save her soul from hell. The devil girl agreed and they were on their way to church when they both were killed by a car. The angel girl went to heaven, while the devil girl was dragged to hell by demons, screaming the entire way off stage. My friend Sheri turned to me clapping hysterically, “wasn’t that powerful?” About a year later her church was shut down and charged with embezzlement. All the souls that they saved cried for days.
One of the few times in the last six or seven years I actually went to church for 'services' other than weddings or funerals was when one of my friends youth groups was putting on a week of 'fun' Christian activities.
ReplyDeleteOne of the events had a rock band that was singing praises to Jesus. The band demanded a lot of audience participation and I stood out of respect, but I felt so awkward being the only one in the room not singing the choruses, but I felt it was more disrespectful for me to speak the words without feeling than to stand quietly.
Another time, I went to a Christmas play my friend was in - it was about a man who had kind of forsaken his family, the family business, and was in love with his technological gadgets, and was forced to relive Christmas-eve night after night after night until he returned to the arms of Jesus.
I struggle to connect with people in these situations because I can't fully appreciate the beauty in these activities