Church. This makes some people's skin curl and some people's breathe. For me, I like to think it's a happy medium of both...or a not so 'happy.'
I grew up in a Luthern church, which is the closest Protestant sect to Catholicism. We had very traditional services with hymns sung out of books, torch bearers, real red wine communion (no Welch's) and strict Sunday attire. No, Lutheran services don't resemble a high school pep rally and aren't housed in carpet warehouses. Vacation Bible School is school, not if-Jesus-were-a-polar-bear-type-arctic-in-Alabama sessions. We don't sing from projector screens or have "contemporary Christian bands"come up and rock out to 'Our God is An Awesome God'. We rise, we kneel, we pray, like it has been done for years. We are formal as formal can get in my opinion. I spent years upon years three hours a week studying the religion, the different creeds and other 'important texts', makings and heart of Martin Luther who daringly left the pope, and deeper meanings of Communion in order to be 'confirmed' and deemed worthy enough to be a member of the church. I liked that sense of belonging, felt 'connected' or 'in the spirit' to such an extreme level of devotion and advocacy...or atleast I thought I was 'there', taught to think I was 'there'.
We left the Luthern church due to 'issues' within the office (money mysteriously disappearing) and because of this creepy Mr. Nelson (who talked like he had something stuck in his throat) stalking my mother and counting her supposed days left of her breast-cancer fight. I was incredibly dissapointed, because this was right after I had been confirmed and I wanted to 'see out' the rest of my spirtual Luthern journey yah de yah de yah. I was so young, so naive.
Last summer I began attending church again....a Southern Baptist church to be exact where 'Brother Clark' yells at you during the sermons, questions your faith daily ("Are you walking with God today? If you're foolin' me, that's your problem because HE knows...HE KNOWS!")...it's kind of scary actually, uncomfortable, and downright hilarious, especially during baptisms -- I swear, if someone told me to believe in something and held me underwater, hell, I'd believe it! But yeah, I know, shame on me, slap me on the hand, there is more to it then that. I find myself critiquing the service, the Baptist belief system...Christianity in general and what scares me the most is that such 'sinful' thoughts don't bother me anymore. Hell might be a better place after all, that is if it truly exisits. Who wants to be pious all the time in heaven? I will admit though that I still yearn for as silly as the services can come off, that 'feeling' everyone talks about. What does it mean to be "saved" and how can one truly know? Was I once
saved"? I have this one pressing image that keeps rising in my memory every time I sit in those pews. It's of this deacon-to-be and the pastor, both kneeling in front of the congregation together, holding each other's bowed heads in their hands and they're muttering a prayer for forgiveness and entrance into the deacon community, to serve, be the servant of God. Something just pulsed through me, the intamacy of the prayer, the grasping of one another, the touch. They 'felt' something, the 'Spirit' was present. People in the congregation were moved to tears or just blankly staring, absorbed. I just kept thinking, 'Are you kidding me?' I didn't feel anything. I really wanted to.
Which brings me to Wednesday Night Youth Group sessions called "Powerpoint" held at the "Powerhouse" (the name gets me every time -- it has a flashing sign) church building. I once-in-a-blue-moon attend the church, though decided to give it try again recently as I had some free time, needed to 'get out' and felt it would perhaps heighten my intellect in some way. So I followed my friends into a "Powerhouse" room and intently listened to the pastor's twenty-something-year-old-son give his lesson. He chose the topic of "worrying". He gave examples of worries that we might have: getting into college, ACT scores, friendships/relationships going awry, fights with parents, sports teams, etc. and told us that in order to be closer to God and to fully accept Him we must let them all go and give them to the Lord. "He will take care of all your burdens." The son went on in scripture (Jerimiah maybe?) that Jesus and his disciples were walking through this field and they were wondering how they could get to heaven, how they could find INNER PEACE, and Jesus said that they should give their burdens to God, have the ability to trust Him enough and he would provide and 'save them'. The birds always had enough food, the grass enough rain, etc...it was a nice story but realistically you can't NOT worry. That is what drives you, makes you productive. A friend of mine raised his hand and asked what about school? You can't just give up on that. "Oh but you can and God will provide." This pastor's son went on to lead us all in prayer, begging the Lord to give us strength to give up on pride and control of our lives, leaving minutes inbetween each statement for silent prayer. I counted seconds, wondering if the giving up of all or little burdens was worth it, would reap peaceful rewards in a dying faith in my eyes. Was it or is it worth restoring?
I'm going on a church retreat with some close friends this weekend (this is a different church -- Presbyterian actually) and am hoping that through different Christian eyes I may see something different -- maybe it's just the denomination or the church or religion..or me. Maybe being out in the freezing mountains will bring some sort of peace in the natural setting of the adirondacks. I wonder if I'm worthy enough to go on this trip, if I should involve myself in a fellowship of die-hard believers as this is the repuatation of the youth group. I'm not expecting to come down from the mountains after the weekend a changed person, one who has seen and felt the Lord before her very eyes...it would be interesting though to feel a step closer to something though, something safer than seemingly Nothing.
I hear Presbyterian's pray. A lot. I like praying; I'm all for that. While closing my eyes and bowing my head I can listen to the thistling of naked, skeletal trees in Appalacian gusty, spiraling wind...maybe in such silence, such isolation, I'll hear something, know something, feel something I'm after warm my insides, radiate heat.
I grew up in a Luthern church, which is the closest Protestant sect to Catholicism. We had very traditional services with hymns sung out of books, torch bearers, real red wine communion (no Welch's) and strict Sunday attire. No, Lutheran services don't resemble a high school pep rally and aren't housed in carpet warehouses. Vacation Bible School is school, not if-Jesus-were-a-polar-bear-type-arctic-in-Alabama sessions. We don't sing from projector screens or have "contemporary Christian bands"come up and rock out to 'Our God is An Awesome God'. We rise, we kneel, we pray, like it has been done for years. We are formal as formal can get in my opinion. I spent years upon years three hours a week studying the religion, the different creeds and other 'important texts', makings and heart of Martin Luther who daringly left the pope, and deeper meanings of Communion in order to be 'confirmed' and deemed worthy enough to be a member of the church. I liked that sense of belonging, felt 'connected' or 'in the spirit' to such an extreme level of devotion and advocacy...or atleast I thought I was 'there', taught to think I was 'there'.
We left the Luthern church due to 'issues' within the office (money mysteriously disappearing) and because of this creepy Mr. Nelson (who talked like he had something stuck in his throat) stalking my mother and counting her supposed days left of her breast-cancer fight. I was incredibly dissapointed, because this was right after I had been confirmed and I wanted to 'see out' the rest of my spirtual Luthern journey yah de yah de yah. I was so young, so naive.
Last summer I began attending church again....a Southern Baptist church to be exact where 'Brother Clark' yells at you during the sermons, questions your faith daily ("Are you walking with God today? If you're foolin' me, that's your problem because HE knows...HE KNOWS!"
saved"? I have this one pressing image that keeps rising in my memory every time I sit in those pews. It's of this deacon-to-be and the pastor, both kneeling in front of the congregation together, holding each other's bowed heads in their hands and they're muttering a prayer for forgiveness and entrance into the deacon community, to serve, be the servant of God. Something just pulsed through me, the intamacy of the prayer, the grasping of one another, the touch. They 'felt' something, the 'Spirit' was present. People in the congregation were moved to tears or just blankly staring, absorbed. I just kept thinking, 'Are you kidding me?' I didn't feel anything. I really wanted to.
Which brings me to Wednesday Night Youth Group sessions called "Powerpoint" held at the "Powerhouse" (the name gets me every time -- it has a flashing sign) church building. I once-in-a-blue-moon attend the church, though decided to give it try again recently as I had some free time, needed to 'get out' and felt it would perhaps heighten my intellect in some way. So I followed my friends into a "Powerhouse" room and intently listened to the pastor's twenty-something-year-old-son give his lesson. He chose the topic of "worrying". He gave examples of worries that we might have: getting into college, ACT scores, friendships/relationships going awry, fights with parents, sports teams, etc. and told us that in order to be closer to God and to fully accept Him we must let them all go and give them to the Lord. "He will take care of all your burdens." The son went on in scripture (Jerimiah maybe?) that Jesus and his disciples were walking through this field and they were wondering how they could get to heaven, how they could find INNER PEACE, and Jesus said that they should give their burdens to God, have the ability to trust Him enough and he would provide and 'save them'. The birds always had enough food, the grass enough rain, etc...it was a nice story but realistically you can't NOT worry. That is what drives you, makes you productive. A friend of mine raised his hand and asked what about school? You can't just give up on that. "Oh but you can and God will provide." This pastor's son went on to lead us all in prayer, begging the Lord to give us strength to give up on pride and control of our lives, leaving minutes inbetween each statement for silent prayer. I counted seconds, wondering if the giving up of all or little burdens was worth it, would reap peaceful rewards in a dying faith in my eyes. Was it or is it worth restoring?
I'm going on a church retreat with some close friends this weekend (this is a different church -- Presbyterian actually) and am hoping that through different Christian eyes I may see something different -- maybe it's just the denomination or the church or religion..or me. Maybe being out in the freezing mountains will bring some sort of peace in the natural setting of the adirondacks. I wonder if I'm worthy enough to go on this trip, if I should involve myself in a fellowship of die-hard believers as this is the repuatation of the youth group. I'm not expecting to come down from the mountains after the weekend a changed person, one who has seen and felt the Lord before her very eyes...it would be interesting though to feel a step closer to something though, something safer than seemingly Nothing.
I hear Presbyterian's pray. A lot. I like praying; I'm all for that. While closing my eyes and bowing my head I can listen to the thistling of naked, skeletal trees in Appalacian gusty, spiraling wind...maybe in such silence, such isolation, I'll hear something, know something, feel something I'm after warm my insides, radiate heat.
1 comment:
I like what you've got going here. Seems like the project almost requires you not to take any weeks off. It's a chronicle of a searcher/seeker, and searcher/seekers -- by definition -- are best served if they maintain slow, steady progress. Think about links.
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