I'll admit I'd been eying the UU's for quite some time now. I just couldn't get anyone to commit to go with me. Normally I don't care if I do things alone. I've been to movies, restaurants, and even foreign countries alone but it never bothers me. For some reason churching alone does. After my sister promised to go then didn't wake up and, hence, sold me out, I went to the Unitarian Church all alone. I sat in the parking lot debating if I should actually get out, but since so many other parts of my life have failed, I refuse to fail in my spiritual journey!!!! ROAR!!!
Now then. This church was something else from the parking lot alone. I'm serious. The individuality warmed my heart. I saw bikers, an old guy dressed for adventure and smoking a giant stogie, a couple of girls with extreme purple/blue hair, dreadlocks...you name it. But I gotta tell you, what was more striking than the individuality was the overwhelming acceptance of these people by "everyone else." The majority of people were what I'd consider to be typical churchgoers: (minus the cleavage of Journey church, I checked) every day people with families, or couples, or solo acts in the periphery (like me). But everyone was so TOGETHER and that was beautiful to me. I think alot of churches probably SAY they welcome everyone, and probably even do for the first time that person visits. I hope they all truly continue doing this, but it was obvious that the Unitarian church doesn't even view this as a thing to consider. It was nice.
The electronic marquee outside says, "Many beliefs, one community, a better world." It's definitely one of the few places of religion I've been with any message other than "Many beliefs, but if you don't share ours then you're going to hell. And also Eff off." Of course, that's never on the marquee but it seems to be a consensus. I'm not saying one marquee is better than the other. What do I know? But if you'll recall the first blog I wrote, since I was a very young child it bothered me that some people may not get salvation because of what their heart truly, passionately believes. So that value of the UU's appeals to me. Part of me would love to belong to a church like this one, where I can't even tell what people believe. Part of me wants to pick a side that has chosen a side. You can't win the lottery if you don't buy the ticket, right?
The service itself was very interesting, but nothing like I've ever seen. They never mentioned God (though I'm not sure if they usually do or not). The theme for the talk/lecture/sermon was "The Artistic, Subversive and Sublime". They did mention some horrific sadnesses that caused everyone to throw pebbles into the place where pebbles go. There was singing. There was a very talented cellist from Salvador who supposedly improvised each selection. Then there was an awesome video clip about this guy Philippe Petit, a wire-walker who walked between the Twin Towers and Notre Dame. The congregation was then invited to "meditate" by walking across some balance beams set up in front to get the feeling of Philippe Petit. Far Out! A little bit WTF but mostly Far Out. I think the message was that we should take chances and not be afraid to live on the edge of life. I'm not sure if God signed off on this service or if his signature was even sought, but it was worth the hour.
The only other thing I'll mention is that one of the song's they sang was "This Little Light of Mine." I think this was the first time I ever heard grown-ups sing this song. I was very sad to discover that I didn't want to sing it because my light is in repair. So I will close with an open letter to God:
Dear God, please fix my light. Love Always, Kim.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Journey Church- Let me Off!!
I finally remembered why I stopped doing this blog last year. I did make an earnest attempt to venture into as many churches as possible. Shortly after I started the blog, I got invited to a baby dedication at Journey Church. I stopped at that one. I chose not to blog about it at the time because it would have been nothing short of wicked to do so. Now that time has healed the memory, I feel I can get through the jist of this service without being too ugly about it.
First, this church is the hippest place in Central, Louisiana. Seriously. It has everything!!! Strobe lights, a coffee shop, loud music, and more cleavage than a rock concert! In fact, their website describes the music as having a cutting, modern edge, their service as being presented in a modern setting, and the hip coffee shop also serving Tazo Tea is called.... wait for it... The Blend. SO cool.
The problem was (well, one anyway) that I've seldom felt MORE disconnected from God. It's awfully hard to establish a meaningful connection when you feel like you're at the mall. It just seems like the place is trying TOO hard to secure parisioners. I'm no authority, but it sucks a little to have to put on a rock concert every single Sunday equipped with a concessions area just to get scantily dressed people to go to church. Don't get me wrong, a couple of people were covered up but some women were wearing sweaters that were tighter than my game day dance uniform back in college! I don't even know where to go to find a larger collection of wrinkly boobs just a-poppin out for Jesus. It's one thing to have casual service where there are jeans and what-not. And obviously people should be able to come as they are and not need fancy things to worship. But these people were fairly affluent or "very blessed by the Lord" if you will, so I'm pretty sure they can afford the extra strip of fabric to cover the old tatas. I'm no old fogey, but I'd rather save my sexy for the usual dingy bar.
The only other part I'll comment on because I simply have to was (yes, the biggest problem of all), the sermon. I really, truly don't mean to be ugly and to be fair, as a life-long learner, avid reader, and education junky I've always questioned the content and delivery of my education in all arenas. This one was no different. I felt like I lost a substantial amount of brain that day. The pastor's message was confusing and dumbed down beyond all reason. He spent most of the sermon talking about his kids and then he discussed a bible verse from Revelation talking about lukewarm Christians and God spewing them out of his mouth. However, it turned into a story so long and more than slightly off topic that I almost forgot why we were hearing it. Kind of like what I'm doing now. He likened it to working all day and sitting on his recliner with some oreo cookies and he picked up a glass of milk next to it but the milk was lukewarm and not cold so he spat it out all over (I bet his wife was pissed). Are you kidding me? That was the best you had to bring that scripture to life? Did you prepare for this at all Mr. Pastor? Does the audience even care? I didn't think so.
In a brief time (seriously, approximately 45 seconds from typing my last sentence), I was able to find an awesome website with biblical commentary that explains that very scripture and how foul the term lukewarm was back when the scripture was written. Several commentators spoke of this water in Laodicea and how unrefreshing it was that it was neither hot nor cold and therefore useless. Now I understand that scripture and why lukewarm christians would make Jesus sick! So, this dude from hi-tech, party time coffee, "cutting" rock music church couldn't take that time to make firmer parallels to its meaning? Instead, he chose to take us on a Journey to our own buttholes via oreo cookies and milk. Honestly, if every church was like this one, I'd throw in the towel. I didn't take Journey Church seriously because it doesn't seem to take itSELF seriously. They have a large following, so this apparently works for many, many too cool for ordinary church people, but it just didn't work for me. It felt far too "see and be seen" for my tastes (which are still being developed). After all, I still don't know what I'm trying to see, but I'm not sure I'd want to be found at Journey Church when I see it.
First, this church is the hippest place in Central, Louisiana. Seriously. It has everything!!! Strobe lights, a coffee shop, loud music, and more cleavage than a rock concert! In fact, their website describes the music as having a cutting, modern edge, their service as being presented in a modern setting, and the hip coffee shop also serving Tazo Tea is called.... wait for it... The Blend. SO cool.
The problem was (well, one anyway) that I've seldom felt MORE disconnected from God. It's awfully hard to establish a meaningful connection when you feel like you're at the mall. It just seems like the place is trying TOO hard to secure parisioners. I'm no authority, but it sucks a little to have to put on a rock concert every single Sunday equipped with a concessions area just to get scantily dressed people to go to church. Don't get me wrong, a couple of people were covered up but some women were wearing sweaters that were tighter than my game day dance uniform back in college! I don't even know where to go to find a larger collection of wrinkly boobs just a-poppin out for Jesus. It's one thing to have casual service where there are jeans and what-not. And obviously people should be able to come as they are and not need fancy things to worship. But these people were fairly affluent or "very blessed by the Lord" if you will, so I'm pretty sure they can afford the extra strip of fabric to cover the old tatas. I'm no old fogey, but I'd rather save my sexy for the usual dingy bar.
The only other part I'll comment on because I simply have to was (yes, the biggest problem of all), the sermon. I really, truly don't mean to be ugly and to be fair, as a life-long learner, avid reader, and education junky I've always questioned the content and delivery of my education in all arenas. This one was no different. I felt like I lost a substantial amount of brain that day. The pastor's message was confusing and dumbed down beyond all reason. He spent most of the sermon talking about his kids and then he discussed a bible verse from Revelation talking about lukewarm Christians and God spewing them out of his mouth. However, it turned into a story so long and more than slightly off topic that I almost forgot why we were hearing it. Kind of like what I'm doing now. He likened it to working all day and sitting on his recliner with some oreo cookies and he picked up a glass of milk next to it but the milk was lukewarm and not cold so he spat it out all over (I bet his wife was pissed). Are you kidding me? That was the best you had to bring that scripture to life? Did you prepare for this at all Mr. Pastor? Does the audience even care? I didn't think so.
In a brief time (seriously, approximately 45 seconds from typing my last sentence), I was able to find an awesome website with biblical commentary that explains that very scripture and how foul the term lukewarm was back when the scripture was written. Several commentators spoke of this water in Laodicea and how unrefreshing it was that it was neither hot nor cold and therefore useless. Now I understand that scripture and why lukewarm christians would make Jesus sick! So, this dude from hi-tech, party time coffee, "cutting" rock music church couldn't take that time to make firmer parallels to its meaning? Instead, he chose to take us on a Journey to our own buttholes via oreo cookies and milk. Honestly, if every church was like this one, I'd throw in the towel. I didn't take Journey Church seriously because it doesn't seem to take itSELF seriously. They have a large following, so this apparently works for many, many too cool for ordinary church people, but it just didn't work for me. It felt far too "see and be seen" for my tastes (which are still being developed). After all, I still don't know what I'm trying to see, but I'm not sure I'd want to be found at Journey Church when I see it.
How Did Those Presbyterians KNOW?!
I should start by saying that before I nervously arrived at this church, all I knew about Presbyterians came from the book Angela's Ashes. That is, that they come from North of Ireland and have Presbyterian hair that you have to let your grandmother spit on to make it behave. Ha ha! This isn't why I was nervous. I'm neither from North of Ireland nor a Presbyterian so I was in no danger of these grooming tactics. I was nervous because I had a feeling that if God had a retinal scanner at the door, it would surely alert security about my breech.
University Presbyterian doesn't have a retinal scanner. Instead, they have a beautiful courtyard surrounded by red bricks that opened to smiles and a kindly old fella at the door greeting everyone... even me. Luckily, I picked a church my super sweet friend attends regularly so I was in good hands. I'm not sure if it makes sense to be in good hands at a church, but I was all the same.
The scene inside was breathtaking. It was light and incredibly airy with large windows looking out onto trees. No stained glass, darkness, or a bloodied and anguished Jesus. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but that setting does put me in a very dark mood. Possibly due to several viewings of The Omen as a child. Anyway, the walls were light green and everything was just so fresh looking. I felt like we should have arrived in carriages. And then I saw that there was a LADY pastor! WOW!!! Times have changed. And she was amazing and articulate and very well prepared. I honestly felt like an intellectual sitting there. It was truly a survey of scripture. They even had a list of people to pray for for various sufferings or celebrate with. I'm still not at a point where I hold much weight in prayer, but I don't think that having an entire congregation funneling well wishes and love to any thing on the planet has ever had a bad outcome.
I got a little emotional at the beginning when we opened with a Prayer of Confession that seemed to have been written for me, even though we all said it out loud together. This part really got me:
"Deliver us, O God; we are overwhelmed by the carnage... created by us in our daily mindlessness, in our careless heartlessness, in our sloppy stewardship. We are embarrassed by messy attempts to cover up what we have done."
IF I believed in signs, this one was addressed to me and put in with a sock full of rocks then hurled at my head. OUCH! This is exactly why I've been begging people to attend to church with me. I am one living, breathing mess! I am presently upset with myself over no fewer than 15 major mistakes I've made and some of them can never be fixed or forgiven. I don't even try to cover up what I've done anymore because I seem to make it worse. That confession hurt and my eyes burned trying to fight back tears of guilt and relief that maybe other people feel this way. But they had something I don't have: JESUS. I left feeling satisfied with a well-spent hour, but I didn't leave with holy spirit. Instead, I left alone but maybe just a little less overwhelmed. I'll keep looking. Finding God is the only thing I haven't tried yet, so I am very excited that I'm FINALLY on the journey. I want to be just like those Presbyterians. I want to be on a team. I want to plead, "Oooh Ooooh!! Ooooh Pick me!!!! Pick me!!!" until God picks me. I don't even care if he picks me last.
University Presbyterian doesn't have a retinal scanner. Instead, they have a beautiful courtyard surrounded by red bricks that opened to smiles and a kindly old fella at the door greeting everyone... even me. Luckily, I picked a church my super sweet friend attends regularly so I was in good hands. I'm not sure if it makes sense to be in good hands at a church, but I was all the same.
The scene inside was breathtaking. It was light and incredibly airy with large windows looking out onto trees. No stained glass, darkness, or a bloodied and anguished Jesus. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but that setting does put me in a very dark mood. Possibly due to several viewings of The Omen as a child. Anyway, the walls were light green and everything was just so fresh looking. I felt like we should have arrived in carriages. And then I saw that there was a LADY pastor! WOW!!! Times have changed. And she was amazing and articulate and very well prepared. I honestly felt like an intellectual sitting there. It was truly a survey of scripture. They even had a list of people to pray for for various sufferings or celebrate with. I'm still not at a point where I hold much weight in prayer, but I don't think that having an entire congregation funneling well wishes and love to any thing on the planet has ever had a bad outcome.
I got a little emotional at the beginning when we opened with a Prayer of Confession that seemed to have been written for me, even though we all said it out loud together. This part really got me:
"Deliver us, O God; we are overwhelmed by the carnage... created by us in our daily mindlessness, in our careless heartlessness, in our sloppy stewardship. We are embarrassed by messy attempts to cover up what we have done."
IF I believed in signs, this one was addressed to me and put in with a sock full of rocks then hurled at my head. OUCH! This is exactly why I've been begging people to attend to church with me. I am one living, breathing mess! I am presently upset with myself over no fewer than 15 major mistakes I've made and some of them can never be fixed or forgiven. I don't even try to cover up what I've done anymore because I seem to make it worse. That confession hurt and my eyes burned trying to fight back tears of guilt and relief that maybe other people feel this way. But they had something I don't have: JESUS. I left feeling satisfied with a well-spent hour, but I didn't leave with holy spirit. Instead, I left alone but maybe just a little less overwhelmed. I'll keep looking. Finding God is the only thing I haven't tried yet, so I am very excited that I'm FINALLY on the journey. I want to be just like those Presbyterians. I want to be on a team. I want to plead, "Oooh Ooooh!! Ooooh Pick me!!!! Pick me!!!" until God picks me. I don't even care if he picks me last.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Fake it till I Make it
Hmmmm... I've noticed two things in viewing this blog. One, it's been over a year since I thought about it and two, I did an astoundingly poor job of fulfilling the self-imposed obligations of this blog (probably because I forgot about it). Oh my goodness what a year it's been! When I explain, anyone reading this will surely understand how this project slipped my mind.
Since creating the blog, I trained for and ran a marathon, my father died, I learned the existence of the word "cremains" (due to said paternal death), my stepfather died (run over by a truck, and no I'm not kidding), I left my husband (there, it's out for the world to see), and I started my life over. I also spent a large part of the summer experiencing some pretty severe panic attacks resulting in scary heart palpitations and abnormally sweaty armpits accrued in less than 10 minutes of sitting in an air conditioned room.
Not even the daunting and prolonged period of puberty can match the changes I've undergone this year. I'm still relatively optimistic about my life by nature, but I can feel myself dragging a little lower every day. What have I done to combat this? Well, I've written approximately six sentences in my journal, I took exactly two guitar lessons, I've been running like a demon, I attended one counseling session that I couldn't really afford, and I attempted to pray the other day. Now let me tell you, the catastrophe of this prayer is probably what sent me back to this blog. It went a little something like this:
"Um... dear God. This is Kim. I think you know who I am because a button probably flashed with the name of the caller. But then again, since I haven't called in about ten years you probably don't have my number because I changed it like nine times and never texted you the update. Ok... this isn't going well. I fully recognize that I'm a douche for contacting you just because my life is a mess. I don't know how to do this so I'm gonna try to find you then we'll talk again. If you want to. Peace Out."
That may be the worst prayer ever. Dead atheists pray better than that. I didn't feel anything after the prayer except stupid. I felt like I was talking to myself actually. But then I found this blog while looking for a friend's blog and it looked cool but it had my picture on it. I don't believe in signs, but I'd like to. That could be a pretty good one. So from this moment on I'm going to recommence this blog. The purpose may have changed a little though. I have never been in more need of SOMETHING in my entire life. I've had some pretty dark times as a child, but I talked to God then. Over the years, I've rationalized away the relationship I had with Him.
So what's the new purpose of A Religious Experience? Instead of being an unattached observer of faith, I desperately want to become a person who actually HAS faith. Faith in anything at all. I'll still attend as many churches as possible until SOMETHING happens. I've completely lost my direction. If I was a compass, I'd be dirty/partially buried in poop with a cracked glass and absolutely no needle at all. I'm in autopilot, making a series of circles over an uncharted world while occasionally dropping bombs on people I love. Jesus help me!!! And I presently mean that as merely an interjection. But I hope that by the end of this experience, I will have been able to help myself and maybe even become homeboys with the J-Man. Sigh. The trip starts tomorrow. See you on the other side.
Since creating the blog, I trained for and ran a marathon, my father died, I learned the existence of the word "cremains" (due to said paternal death), my stepfather died (run over by a truck, and no I'm not kidding), I left my husband (there, it's out for the world to see), and I started my life over. I also spent a large part of the summer experiencing some pretty severe panic attacks resulting in scary heart palpitations and abnormally sweaty armpits accrued in less than 10 minutes of sitting in an air conditioned room.
Not even the daunting and prolonged period of puberty can match the changes I've undergone this year. I'm still relatively optimistic about my life by nature, but I can feel myself dragging a little lower every day. What have I done to combat this? Well, I've written approximately six sentences in my journal, I took exactly two guitar lessons, I've been running like a demon, I attended one counseling session that I couldn't really afford, and I attempted to pray the other day. Now let me tell you, the catastrophe of this prayer is probably what sent me back to this blog. It went a little something like this:
"Um... dear God. This is Kim. I think you know who I am because a button probably flashed with the name of the caller. But then again, since I haven't called in about ten years you probably don't have my number because I changed it like nine times and never texted you the update. Ok... this isn't going well. I fully recognize that I'm a douche for contacting you just because my life is a mess. I don't know how to do this so I'm gonna try to find you then we'll talk again. If you want to. Peace Out."
That may be the worst prayer ever. Dead atheists pray better than that. I didn't feel anything after the prayer except stupid. I felt like I was talking to myself actually. But then I found this blog while looking for a friend's blog and it looked cool but it had my picture on it. I don't believe in signs, but I'd like to. That could be a pretty good one. So from this moment on I'm going to recommence this blog. The purpose may have changed a little though. I have never been in more need of SOMETHING in my entire life. I've had some pretty dark times as a child, but I talked to God then. Over the years, I've rationalized away the relationship I had with Him.
So what's the new purpose of A Religious Experience? Instead of being an unattached observer of faith, I desperately want to become a person who actually HAS faith. Faith in anything at all. I'll still attend as many churches as possible until SOMETHING happens. I've completely lost my direction. If I was a compass, I'd be dirty/partially buried in poop with a cracked glass and absolutely no needle at all. I'm in autopilot, making a series of circles over an uncharted world while occasionally dropping bombs on people I love. Jesus help me!!! And I presently mean that as merely an interjection. But I hope that by the end of this experience, I will have been able to help myself and maybe even become homeboys with the J-Man. Sigh. The trip starts tomorrow. See you on the other side.
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