Not long ago, I related an event (remembrance,memorial) for a deceased person, Kevin. That event disturbed me because there there was no mention on God or faith or spirit.
Now I relate an event that occurred within a month of that experience. A month earlier I considered that I had had a remembrance devoid of faith.
My new experience a month later was an event with "too much" faith.
Can I never be happy? Too little, too much?
My son invited me to a musical event, a rock concert at a major church in my local vicinity.
I thought 'I'm an adventurer, The church itself is called Adventure, it's phone number is an uber-comforting 624-LOVE. I'll try it. I'm up for loud music and to share that with my son.
My son, his daughter, my daughter, and I entered the structure that
dominates an entire mountain-top adjacent to my hometown. In the lobby I observed a functioning
coffee house and refreshment stands. We took an elevator to the balcony and looked down on the
coffee house, the refreshment stands and several tables exchanging products and services for $$.
Uhmm, I thought I don't know the bible real well, but money-changers seems to ring a bell.
My next visual (this one in my head) was to see Jesus with his staff held high entering this building
and clearing it of abominations. Righteous anger, that is what Catholics call Jesus' emotion. Not anger (too worldly, too lowly, but righteous).
The concert started with melodies that were okay but a bit repetitious with lyrics of "high" and "low."
Then the sounds built. The introduction of smoke on stage. Cheers arose from the audience of thousands.
Hands started rising throughout. I felt no urge to join.
Power-point, videos took the stage --the wonders of the universe, the stars, the galaxies, the seas, the grains of sand. The message I'm sure was There Must Be a Creator of these wonders. His name is God and we must honor and glorify Him. More hands rose. A series of video clips showed hands raised in history for
good causes.
One was not shown and one was missing --the Nazi salutes of the 1930's.
More music at incredible decibels in this Mega church. The smoke on stage multiplied to huge proportions).
A preacher appeared on stage, although he was not introduced as such. He had a seductive smile (or was it Angelic) on his lips as he nimbly segue-wayed from Power-point God to Jesus. And the sacrifice of Jesus by his Father. (At this moment I thought of Abraham willing to sacrifice his son on an altar.) Jesus willing to give his earthly life for His cause, as many before him and many after have done. Called Martyrs. I admire Martyrs, I admire Saints. I wish I had the courage to be one or the other in my life.
Back to the scene, back to the stage. The smoke, the tempo, the decibels increased. And then --the hugest,crudest cross was being dragged cross the stage by kind of scruffy looking teen-agers.
By this time I was squirming in my seat. I thought to myself, I know I have claustrophobia , but how can I be experiencing that phobia in a huge auditorium? Yet I did. Hey, look, I couldn't even handle the emotion of Billy Graham or Oral Roberts in the '50's and '60's. I turned to my daughter beside me and asked in desperation: Can you take me home?
I felt so manipulated. didn't the others?
I didn't even say goodbye to my son who had invited me. I did not want to interrupt his 'rapture' if that is what he was experiencing.
Pure theatre and mass production--there's the word Mass.How much did this church pay for this production?
How many tithers (It is Written) did they recruit? What was the cost benefit to this Mega-church? I would guess that it was a success and a good investment to the church.
Now I relate an event that occurred within a month of that experience. A month earlier I considered that I had had a remembrance devoid of faith.
My new experience a month later was an event with "too much" faith.
Can I never be happy? Too little, too much?
My son invited me to a musical event, a rock concert at a major church in my local vicinity.
I thought 'I'm an adventurer, The church itself is called Adventure, it's phone number is an uber-comforting 624-LOVE. I'll try it. I'm up for loud music and to share that with my son.
My son, his daughter, my daughter, and I entered the structure that
dominates an entire mountain-top adjacent to my hometown. In the lobby I observed a functioning
coffee house and refreshment stands. We took an elevator to the balcony and looked down on the
coffee house, the refreshment stands and several tables exchanging products and services for $$.
Uhmm, I thought I don't know the bible real well, but money-changers seems to ring a bell.
My next visual (this one in my head) was to see Jesus with his staff held high entering this building
and clearing it of abominations. Righteous anger, that is what Catholics call Jesus' emotion. Not anger (too worldly, too lowly, but righteous).
The concert started with melodies that were okay but a bit repetitious with lyrics of "high" and "low."
Then the sounds built. The introduction of smoke on stage. Cheers arose from the audience of thousands.
Hands started rising throughout. I felt no urge to join.
Power-point, videos took the stage --the wonders of the universe, the stars, the galaxies, the seas, the grains of sand. The message I'm sure was There Must Be a Creator of these wonders. His name is God and we must honor and glorify Him. More hands rose. A series of video clips showed hands raised in history for
good causes.
One was not shown and one was missing --the Nazi salutes of the 1930's.
More music at incredible decibels in this Mega church. The smoke on stage multiplied to huge proportions).
A preacher appeared on stage, although he was not introduced as such. He had a seductive smile (or was it Angelic) on his lips as he nimbly segue-wayed from Power-point God to Jesus. And the sacrifice of Jesus by his Father. (At this moment I thought of Abraham willing to sacrifice his son on an altar.) Jesus willing to give his earthly life for His cause, as many before him and many after have done. Called Martyrs. I admire Martyrs, I admire Saints. I wish I had the courage to be one or the other in my life.
Back to the scene, back to the stage. The smoke, the tempo, the decibels increased. And then --the hugest,crudest cross was being dragged cross the stage by kind of scruffy looking teen-agers.
By this time I was squirming in my seat. I thought to myself, I know I have claustrophobia , but how can I be experiencing that phobia in a huge auditorium? Yet I did. Hey, look, I couldn't even handle the emotion of Billy Graham or Oral Roberts in the '50's and '60's. I turned to my daughter beside me and asked in desperation: Can you take me home?
I felt so manipulated. didn't the others?
I didn't even say goodbye to my son who had invited me. I did not want to interrupt his 'rapture' if that is what he was experiencing.
Pure theatre and mass production--there's the word Mass.How much did this church pay for this production?
How many tithers (It is Written) did they recruit? What was the cost benefit to this Mega-church? I would guess that it was a success and a good investment to the church.
