Sunday, January 20, 2008

The Dichotomy of Worship

Today I went to church twice.

From 9:30-10:30 am I attended St. Joseph Catholic church. I'm Catholic: born, raised, and attempting to practice (sometimes more successfully than other times). Walking into St. Joseph's is like walking into my home parish St. Peter's at home. It's tall cathedral ceilings are bordered by stain glass illustrations of the bible.

Mass is a litany of recited prayer, familiar songs, carefully orchestrated worship that is predictable and comfortable. If it's a good sermon, as it was today, it applies the readings to real life and makes you think right in the middle of all that predictable ritual.

Today we sang two of my favorite songs: Make me a Channel of Your Peace (St Francis Prayer) and Here I Am Lord. I walked away from mass warm, full of warmth towards others, and ready to face another hard week of work.

From 11:15-1 pm I attended Real Life Church at the invitation of some girls from gym. It's Pentecostal.

I walked in and was greeted by one of the girls I know- darn if her name didn't get lost from my head- and walked into the sanctuary. The first thing I noticed wasn't the architecture-- it was just plain walls and a ceiling-- but the full band and at least 30 person choir on stage rocking it christian-style. I wondered if I was late. I sat in the first seat I could find in the back- only to realize later that it was the reserved section for people with infants and children. Oh well. No one moved me, and the family to my right were involved and involving during the service. Every time the preacher said "tap three people and tell them you belong to God," I got a tap on my shoulder from the family. I tapped back enthusiastically, if awkwardly. At one point we even exchanged high fives.

The first 30 minutes or so was music from up front with people on their feet, swaying, some raising their hands at the swell of the music. I once read a study regarding the effect of loud volume music on the pleasure centers of the brain and wondered if they had read the same article. I was in a cheerful mood by the end of the music as were the rest of the congregation. The preacher got up and talked a bit, welcoming the worshipers and commenting the holy spirit had taken him when he got off-topic.

There was a short compilation of film, music, speech and a picture montage celebrating both Martin Luther King and the racial harmony present in the church. Looking around, I noted quite a bit of racial harmony going on and am frankly impressed to see it in small town Georgia. This church, at least on the surface, seems very forward and color-blind.

The preacher got back up and blessed our tithes- the only part of the whole service that I rejected. I did give $10, but said a little prayer for the congregation in general. From what I understood of the preacher's words, the more you give, the more blessings God will give you and your family. If you want more blessings, give more. This seems very wrong to me and I hope I misunderstood.

He then began his sermon (?). The basic message was reject average and strive to be more. Good message. Said over and over again, with increasing intensity, increasing loudness, and more vocabulary. This is preaching fueled by raw emotion, not careful planning. There was a reading-- a sentence above him on the screen- that the preaching loosely adhered to.

There was a music group called the Crabbs family present and they sang a few songs that were well received. On whole, the whole experience was unpredictable, emotion packed, and very much in celebration of christian behavior and Jesus. A few people went up after final prayer to be saved (I accidently raised my hand during prayer, but quickly put it back down when I realized what was going on). Then it was over.

So what did I think? I enjoyed Real Life church, and will probably go back the only other weekend I have here. It was fun and worshipful. I got goose-bumps from time to time. It was a celebration of God, but it didn't feel like church. I like my church with its concentration of rituals, prayer, and a 20 minute sermon that has a definite beginning, middle and end. I wonder how it would be perceived if I went to "church" in my Catholic church, then followed it up with praise in the Pentecostal church? Would it be against the pope? Is it worshipping multiple gods, or acknowledging the two sides of my same God? The solemn and the joyful God? Regardless, it was a nice start to the day.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Small Town Georgia

Some sights around the Georgia area!

Friend Adrienne and I checked out the High museum in Atlanta- to see the Impressionists. Very snooty. Actually a good exhibit, for all the crowd. As usual, the contemporary art exhibit called my name next. Guess what this picture shows? I love it.



We are DEEP in churches here. Interesting enough, this is a Baptist and a Catholic church sharing the same street.


I was stunned to find out that while chic-fil-a exists in Baltimore, it is sadly absent in Boston. No "Eat mor chiken" slogans? No cows encouraging the boycotting of meatburgers? Down here in Georgia we even have a Chic-fil-a with a tiny non-PC door marked "for dwarfs". See the red door? The sign even reads "chic-fil-a" and below that "Dwarf house".

Last weekend was spent visiting the High, having coffee with dear friend Angela, and spending time with Ty and Jennifer. Somehow I went and saw Sweeney Todd again. Enough with the blood!!! The music is rather gritty.

I'm on the hunt for the next assignment- got a nibble in Roanoke, VA. We'll see if that interview happens. Right now I'm being run ragged at work-- productivity standards at this chain hospital require pretty much non-stop running. I'm becoming more efficient now that I have to clock in and clock out-- no more working extra and marking down the time I SHOULD have left work instead of the time I actually crawled out of there. I guess that's good to learn. I entered today at 35 hours and was told I couldn't earn overtime-- so I left at 1:45pm and enjoyed a long afternoon. It's pretty crazy.

Tomorrow morning, I'm having eggs for breakfast. A lady at Curves raises chickens, grinds her own chicken feed, and sells the fresh eggs. My eggs were laid yesterday. Wonder if they'll taste different than my Walmart eggs? Stay tuned.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Canon in D

Amuse yourself and watch this. Don't be tempted to turn off half-way through- the end is more amusing than the beginning.