Posts Tagged ‘ Worship ’

Worship Is, as Worship Does.

Worship is that time in church before the preacher guy comes up, and after they pray, right?

Or, when we clap our hands when the pastor says, “Lift up a shout of praise!” Then we clap. (Dunno why. He said “shout”. Hands don’t shout.)

Or, when we still very still and very quietly, with hands folded for a very long time. (Dunno what that does either. Seems like a tricky game of Sleeping Lion, where you aren’t allowed to go to sleep.)

Or, when we give something like money, or volunteering, It shows what good people we are.

Worship is a person walking around with a sense of adoration, amazement, and ecstasy toward God. They aren’t worried about things not being perfect. Not worried about somebody’ else’s obnoxiousness.

But lets talk about churchy worship. Ya know, before that preacher guy starts talking us into Boresville. That band (well that’s what they call themselves) comes up and starts playing some upbeat tune that you really enjoy (you don’t know how you know this song, but you like it. Come to think of it, you don’t even know where you first heard this song. They don’t play it on the radio. Can you even remember a different band’s version of this song? Me either). The ‘band’ was rocking pretty good until the preacher interrupted them to pray. Now they’re going back into it, but that guitarist can’t seem to keep up with the drummer (which is super weird, because they’re like 12 feet from each other. And I’ve heard rumors that that drummer has caused 2 people to need inner-ear-reconstructive-surgery). And that soloist’s vibrato is as wide as her hips (she must have to purchase a whole row of seat’s on airplanes. 2 for her hips and 3 more for that voice).

Well now they’re done. Preacher guy asks us to give said ‘band’ a round of applause. We all applaud (mostly because that means they’re leaving the stage, which is the biggest blessing I’ve gotten since my Christmas Bonus). Now the preacher tells us to bow our heads and talk to God in our own way (no one ever says anything. This place makes libraries look like night clubs).

Now preacher-man starts telling Aunt Ruth’s paulbearers to come up and distribute bowls for us to put money in (why do these guys where those awful purple suede blazers? They don’t even go with black… they’re that purple. They do somehow compliment the carpet though). Oh crap! That guitarist is coming back onstage! (Didn’t we just get rid of him?) He announces that he’s been inspired to write a song. Great. You recognize this sing too. But it has a completely different set of elements to it. Oh yeah… this is a Johnny Cash tune. This guy just changed the lyrics… not much either… and that doesn’t rhyme. And we applaud again.

Preacher-man gets us to stand up to read from the Good Book. This is your favorite part. Not because you like to read. No. (He talks so fast, no one can even find the right passage, never mind following along. This is the only place where people get read to – outside of elementary school). You like this time because this is the first time blood has entered your legs since the ‘band’ had their last ‘gig’.

Preacher-man continues with a really wordy lecture about walking what you talk. This guy is the king of quotable phrases (he also has the most amazing accent. But that doesn’t do it justice. Its more like an entire persona he operates in. It’s like Georgia native meets football fan, meets Red Bull, meets bad comedian, meets used car salesman).

Whadda know? It’s time to leave. On your way out you think, “I really wish this church met me on my level.”

Is it really them?
Is it really you?
Should they spoon feed you?
Should you dive in?