Yesterday whilst zipping about the web I saw a story headlined, "Psychotherapist Analyzes Why Church is So Boring." I didn't read the story because who gives a sprung couch spring---but then this morning I woke up imagining what Dr. Pill wrote in his notebook as he sat in the church service he analyzed. Maybe his notes looked something like this:
Benches too hard. Pew. P.U. Potty issues?
Men in suits. Church just another job?
Opening song: Awful. Rock of Aged. What about Stones, Clapton. Bob Marley? Polka? Anything.
Church announcements/biz. Meetings, meetings, meetingszzzzzzzz. Need scandal, gossip! Missed opp.
"Kidz Tyme." (Why can't Johnny's dad spell?) Years for kids to finally gather up front. Mr. Child Relate tells story about choosing right present, or presenting right choice, or righting present choice. Yawnfest. Kids seem to enjoy! But at what cost?
Another song?! Worst rock concert EVER!!!
Sermon. So this is how Christians condition selves to experience eternity. I miss music.
People asking for prayers. Not boring. Cried a little. (Pray for cancer lady.) Put in more of this.
Another song. A.N.O.T.H.E.R.F.R.E.A.K.I.N.G.S.O.N.G!.!.!.!. I would buy this church a karaoke machine. Will.
Pass hat time. Please, God: buy music lessons for Lead Zeppelin.
Bread and wine time. Wine to vinegar if any slower. Seconds on wine ok? Cheez Whiz? Lox? (Hell for me?)
Final goodbye---go, be blessing to world, bore people into believing etc. Procession out: Plod of the Half-Dead. Must shake pastor's hand. (Germs?)
Verdict? Not exactly Circ de' Soul.
And yet. (!!!)
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