I watch my breath, measured and steady, as I trudge through the sub-zero parking lot towards the door. An older gentleman opened it, exclaiming, “Welcome” as I nodded and stepped inside.
Today, we’re visiting the Word of Faith Family Church. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll get suckered into religion again. Yet I feel like I have to do this. I was here a couple decades ago, watching a man make his sales pitch. “We neeeeed the truck,” he yelled, “when Jesus comes back, we want to be in the thick of the action, filming the whole event from start to finish. If this congregation can give me ten thousand dollars, I’ll be well on my way to a down payment for a semi truck, video equipment, a staff, and an editing room where we can broadcast the second coming as it happens!”
I wish I could make this stuff up. But I was there. I didn’t give him money either. Even back in my “crazy days,” I like to think I had a modicum of thinking skills.
But I was there today because I’m revisiting my old haunts, the places of worship I attended, where I was a bonafied member, and/or places I performed when I sang alto in the local (and very cool) Christian band.
But I digress. Today I’m visiting the ghosts of Word of Faith. I prepared my notes stream of conscious, hopefully you’ll find my odd musings interesting, useful, helpful.
But first things first. After a fast conversation with the church door greeter, I was pleased to find the sanctuary. They appeared to have remodeled since last time I was there. Interestingly the altar itself hadn’t changed much in the last two decades. I noted the addition of praise band equipment… oh the memories. Back in the day, I was a praise band member (not at this church, though). I wondered if these guys were as good as we were. 🙂
With lots of people milling around, I half expected a hearty “hello” somewhere along the line. We were clearly visitors, and unaware of their social circles.
Nothing.
I knew three people and I forced a conversation with one of them. Everyone treated us like we were interrupting something. I quit trying to drum up a conversation and sat in silence waiting for the service to start.
Eventually, the praise band began their set.
I smiled watching the guitar player struggle through the tough the chord progressions of “Oh Holy Night.” I felt relieved realizing that I didn’t miss the songs, I didn’t miss the social interactions, I didn’t miss church. The chances of my getting sucked into the church scene felt refreshingly remote. I relaxed and enjoyed the show.
The service began at 10:00. At 10:15 we were still singing. I poked my husband and asked, “Why aren’t they singing any good carols like Rudolph, Frosty, Let it snow…?” He just smiled at me.
We stood for a long time, long enough to cause a few of the (evidently) less dedicated congregates to prematurely sit.
Finally we finished singing, the swayers opened their eyes, the arm raisers sat, and my husband and I joined them.
A man (I presumed to be the minister) stood and talked a long time about trials and tribulations. “Wow,” I thought, “this will be a short service. They’re getting the sermon done fast.” Then reality sunk in as he reminded everyone that they’d cancelled church last week and everyone needed to give double today.” This wasn’t the sermon, it was evidently a stewardship pitch. I looked at my husband knowing he was thinking “zero doubled = 0.” When the plate came around, that’s precisely what he threw in.
It was during this man’s extended stewardship diatribe that he first introduced the “world.” More on that in a bit. I’d temporarily forgotten that term and was pleased that I’d done so.
Next up, the children’s Christmas program!
I used to love the Sunday School Christmas program. Watching those cute kids line up in their fuzzy Christmas best generally warmed my black heart. But not this time.
My excitement drained as I watched the kids march to the stage, slip behind a puppet “stage” and lip sync the puppets to per-recorded music. They “performed” not one song, but two very long songs with the audience watching puppet mouths flop open and closed.
The audience seemed to enjoy it, though.
Then we had the children sermon. Again, pre-recorded, turned out to be this youtube vid:
Next up? The sermon.
