Irrelevant Irreverence

Is the title of this blog a double negative?  Does it really mean relevant reverence?  Whatever.  I am going to take a light-hearted look at my Sunday at church.  You are welcome to leave if you are afraid I will try and convert you to my Holier than thou religion.

Today is Sunday and I went to church, like I do most Sundays.  I love my church, and our pastor… but the congregation I could do without.  It’s not that they are wicked and evil people, or make faces as I walk by – it’s just that I am not really a people person.

Today we got there early, which means after a few songs we get the opportunity to meet some people around us, shake their hands, blah blah blah.  This is the part a lot of people go to church for, the fellowship of it all.  That’s cool – I just would rather go, get my message, learn something, and book it out of there.  We all have schedules to keep, but that phrase “Sunday Driver” originated at my church I think.

Today I met the three new people quota.  “Take this time to turn and meet three new people around you…”  Let’s see there was Mike, Christine, and some other dude who I don’t remember his name.  No offense dude – but those two seconds we spent didn’t really stick with me.  I saw another person a few rows ahead of us making eye contact with me – like I was suppose to bound over the seats and shake his hand.  Sorry bud, I already got my three, move it along.

I was in a small group book study once with some guys from church, and one of them was saying how he didn’t care so much for the singing portion.  I think it was the selection of music, and how it was more modern as opposed to hymnals etc.  (Hymnals sounds like the name of an alien race.)  I expressed that I really didn’t care for the hand shaking and meet and greet.  The two guys looked at me like I just personally put the thorny crown on Jesus’ head.  “That’s part of fellowship, it’s really important!”  Whatever.

Today was the 45th anniversary of our church.  Along with service there was also a communion “table”.  They actually passed around these silver trays with the sacraments on them.  We took the bread and held it until all had been served, then ate it together as a sign of our church’s unity and stuff.  Then they passed around the other silver trays with the little plastic cups of wine (tastes like Welch’s to me).  We drink these individually, representing our individual connection and relationship etc. to God.  Pardon my poor interpretations.

Sara sits with us in church, while Megan and Simon go to their own little rooms for Sunday school.  So when the service was over we tried to exit and get downstairs for the other two kids – but with it being the 45th Anniversary and all, people were milling about and doing more meeting and greeting.  Seriously it was right out of “March or the Penguins”.  Baby-stepping it to the staircase, when people were intermittently stopping and chatting with people on the floor above.  I almost knocked over a gal carrying some kind of bunt cake.  (Speaking of penguins, and I am not Catholic, but when more than one Nun is present – I think they should be called Sums/Somes.  Nooners would be funny.)

At the bottom of the stairs we split up.  I go to get Simon, and K goes to get Megan.  Sara tags along with me, as we make our way down the corridors to the nursery area for “crawlers and walkers”.  Again, with people standing and clogging the hallways, laughing, shaking body parts and making eye contact, but not moving out of the way.  “I know ‘What Would Jesus Do’, he’d get outta my way!” or he would part the hallway like the Red Sea.

Finally back in the car we are discussing going home, when Megan pipes up that they had a snack in class.  Sara chimed in that we too had a snack – but K corrected her that we did not really have a snack; it was a part of the service.  “Yeah!” I said, “The body and blood of Jesus Christ is not a snack!”  Especially when you only get one of those little crackers…

If they ever do a comedic rendition of the last supper it should have Anthony Hopkins as Jesus Christ.  “Eat this, with some fava beans and my nice Chianti, *slvslvslvslvslv*”.

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