Day 3 - Church-y Church

Hebrews 10:25 says, "Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another..."

I read that scripture and understand it to mean we should regularly attend church...right? Because if we don't, we might fall into our own way of interpreting the Scriptures or we might hold to one scripture and not another, or we might even start to believe our own theology if we don't hear God's word spoken to us and convicting us of our wrongs.

I totally get that.

But I hate church. Rather, I hate "churchy" people sitting in the church. I would almost rather visit the dentist than sit in a church pew for 2 hours because the people attending church are such hypocrites! Adulterers, slanderers, gossipers...the list goes on. Not that I'm any saint by any means, but doesn't it strike you as hypocrisy that the same man standing next to me in church with his arms held high to God in praise and worship is the same man who is currently in the middle of an extra-marital affair? Or the woman on the other side of me who leads the children in Sunday School is one of the worst gossips in the church? Makes me want to vomit.

I need Jesus and Jesus' forgiveness absolutely! And so do these people next to me. But I just can't get past the whole praise and worship service with hands held in the air, tears streaming down faces, total "in the moment" kind of worship with our Creator...and then 6 hours later, they're committing that same sin that is ruining their family structure or tearing down another church member.

But...I went to church on Sunday for the first time in months. I took my eldest daughter with me. She actually wanted to go. I wanted to stay at home with my sick toddler and my husband and my middle child and have family time. But since my eldest daughter had specifically asked me to take her, I went.

We arrived and found our seats. Nobody said "hello" to us except one man, gray haired and in a business suit. Whatever. I'm used to being overlooked. We are sitting in the seats waiting for service to begin. There's a young mother with her infant daughter strapped to her chest with a colorful Moby wrap. Cute. Mother is excitedly discussing her daughter's latest pair of shoes, mother's newest hair color and cut.

I glance over a few more pews. There are somber adults sitting and waiting, just kind of staring blankly ahead towards the pulpit. Nobody greets them, either.

A grandmother and grandfather take their seats in front of us, their grandchildren bouncing up and down. Cute kids.

Still, nobody else says hello. There are various groups formed throughout the room, chatting away and laughing together.

The praise and worship team walks to the front and starts playing their music and singing their songs. Nice music. Uplifting beat. Sincere words sung by a few up at the front.

Grandfather in front of me is really tall. I have to move over to see the screen so I can lip sync the words. Grandfather then takes the oldest granddaughter and places her standing on the back of the chair so she's standing taller than he is. I move again. Grandfather and graddaughter stay this way throughout the whole worship service, with no regard for anyone behind. Whatever. I'm used to selfish people.

During worship, I see lots of arms raised, tears coming down faces. These same people who never once said hello to me or my daughter but were huddled in their "cliques" earlier. Whatever. I'm used to that, too. By the way, this church is rather small, so it's easy to spot a "newbie."

Sunday School director comes forward and brings up some young children with her. They're discussing Vacation Bible School and it's success. Cute kids. They're not really paying attention t0 what the director is talking about...but neither am I.

Prayer. Offering collection. I place in $5. The only cash I have on hand. My bank account is drained from buying the girls their school shoes and school supplies and paying my arm's length of bills. I'm sure God will be okay with $5. It's better than nothing. I squish it up like a rolled ciagrette so that the usher can't tell that I've put into the gold dish a measley $5.

Sermon time. It's the gray-haired guy in the suit. Kind of a dry sermon, but he keeps on track and follows an outline that was handed out in the church bulletin. He has to hurry because the congregation is getting antsy.

One more song, and service is over.

Nobody...not one single other person...greets us or says good-bye.

We exit the church with just ONE person in that whole congregation who acknowledged our presence.

Well, at least we went...right?