one hour of wonder

Hello.

Goaded into this by my buddy, here is my long awaited rant on church. heh.

So we went to church Sunday at Pathways, yip yip. Jodi gave the message- that kid rocks my socks. Sometimes she has a way with words that cuts me like the dudes don't. Maybe it's just because I feel like I get her on a fundamental level. Minus the salutory fist punching and that pink slip shirt she wears under EVERYTHING.

And it was about bodies, and grace, and forward vision and a transcendary understanding of ourselves as beings, not narcissistic and not gnostic. (say those last 5 words 10 times fast). Woohoo, it was a glorious cornucopia of insightful head buffet. And then I hear folding. A soft, skkkkkrrrt from my right, and I look over and Jodie Sanders look alike, who beebopped into our row 10 minutes after the service had started, is folding crap, looked like maybe children's church papers or something. A huge stack, over and over, softly skkkkkrrrrting next to me. Well, Jodie Sanders look alike, let me tell you something. This is not your prep hour. This has nothing to do with you, or your agenda, and Jesus loves the little children, but this is not the time. Or the place. Put it effing away. UGH! I start to worry about myself some times- like, why do I want to punch people in the middle of a service?

But one look around, Jodie Sanders look alike, proves that you are not alone in your irreverence, inappropriateness, and downright rude attitude in this service. In the freakin' SECOND row, in the MIDDLE (of a several hundred congregant service), is a dude with a New Belgium brew company ballcap on, with Fat Tire displayed proudly on the front, over the sweat-stained bill. Now, New Belgium, don't get me wrong. You make a fine, fine beer there- Fat Tire on tap is my new fave. However, don't wear your beer hat to church. Duh. AND there is dude #2 with a Guinness pullover windbreaker two rows in front of me- I get to see his bearwear as he returns from communion. No.

And don't let me get started with Starbucks cups, or cell phones. Throw it away, and turn it off. Or you will be thrown away and turned off. That's even biblical.

So, I'm not this hateful pantalones all the time. But in this ridiculous individualistic new world we live in, give me one hour, one hour people, where I don't have to hear your samba ring, view your advertisement for huge corporations that are harming people, or get distracted because you think it's time for busywork.


Let us be still.