Journey of a Janus pt 3. the hometown church experience
From where I last left off with part 2.
Everything from this part is a little difficult...summing it up without ranting too much, being honest but not being too mean at parts, keeping it brief, and even the title for that matter.
So After being at Sunday school for a while, I wanted to go upstairs for big people church too, I guess you would call it. I tried it out when I was about ten years old or so and it lasted maybe a few months, after that I continued to go to Sunday school but stopped going to the main church. After a while I made the grevious assumption that anyone that is trying to do this on there own makes. That is, I thought I could do it on my own and I didn't need to go to church, because I would end up being a total nutcase or may become an Athiest if I had to be around people in church. (At least that church, though that sounds a bit mean.)
I did have some good experiences too I should point out. The coffee was great. I started drinking coffee not to look grown up like some kids did back then, but because the punch tasted kinda scary. Every time I would get myself some coffee and add my cream and sugar I would get the "You're going to stunt your grownth" joke from the little old lady who runs the refreshments table. The first time it made me worry, the second time it made me smile, but by the third time I wished that coffee would stunt my ability to hear tired old cliche jokes.
The church I go to now has a band, the church I went to then had a choir. I think some hymns sound good with a choir, but they of course had to sing hymns because they don't have a band and we couldn't get a 83 year old choir guy named Ralph to do some guitar rifts. Some of the songs are quite beautiful though, and even when I was 10 I found them hauntingly wonderful to hear.
Now I have to tell you the other side of the coin of course, I should start out by saying that Rev. Bridges was not the most exciting minister to hear, and that's not just because I was young, had the attention span of a goldfish for lectures, and had just drank 2 cups of coffee with way too much sugar in it. I don't blame him for it though, really I don't. I am sure alot of people think I am boring, sometimes I read my archives and go..yikes. For some reason though the 70 year old and older crowd liked that "young man" and most the parents of the kids that went to Sunday school avoided church for a reason.
Most of us have heard the term "watered down" church services. Some actually mean "watered down" and some mean "not from our denomination and therefore wrong." I could honestly say our's was pretty watered down, I wish I could say one person learned something 11:00 Sunday morning in that church and applied it within 5 minutes of leaving the building. Rev. Bridges could talk about nothing, and he could manage to do that for about an hour. My dad was not allowed to go with my mom unless he had a cup of coffee due to his bad habit of falling asleep during the sermon and snoring loud enough to make the pulpit kind of wobble.
It was a bit alarming, because in the brief time that I attended I really tried to get something out of it, and when it was done I would discuss what I heard and kind of learned.
My grandma would always go "That's what he was talking about!?" She basically went there because she knew she should go to church, but never really learned anything and honestly admitted to that once when I asked her what she liked about it. Rev. Bridges never talked about who Jesus really was, how God can change your heart and the importance of accepting Jesus, or really anything that made you want to learn anything new. His message every week seemed to be "You're generally good people, God will probably let you get into heaven as long as you are relatively good people." I tried asking questions back then, but if I got anyone to take me seriously, they didn't know the answer.
That was kind of the other problem, though it was complicated. It was the little church in our small town. Most people like to go where people know them, but I honestly wished I could be own person and people would think of me as a person of my own, and not Janus Sr's boy, or the little brother of that surly Ed or his sister Caroline. Kind of like how when Jesus went to Nazareth and everyone said "Isn't that Joe's boy?" every time he talked and no one respected him there. That's really about to as close as I can relate to Jesus sometimes without sounding like I am delusional, but growing up in a little town where everyone knows you and your family you tend to get typecasted.
The other problem in little towns is that no one really donates or tithes. Most people in Boucanville think the word Tithe has something to do with laundry detergents. So since most people kind of treat the offering plate as a tip jar at Starbucks, the church is usually broke. So that means for a church to survive it lives off the generous donations of one or two of the bluer blooded familys of Boucanville. Which means that also that they effectively "own" the church and everything that goes on there. Ministers learn either to teach the way the "Chairman" suggests or they usually end up walking. Since the Chairman doesn't want to hear this silly thing about them being sinners and needing Jesus to go into heaven because God doesn't cash checks, the churches are pretty dead.
So after a few frustrating month or so of trying to make it work with my local church, I dropped out. For a few years me and God talked, but it grew less and less....
See ya soon, as I tell ya the good news of what happened next.
Everything from this part is a little difficult...summing it up without ranting too much, being honest but not being too mean at parts, keeping it brief, and even the title for that matter.
So After being at Sunday school for a while, I wanted to go upstairs for big people church too, I guess you would call it. I tried it out when I was about ten years old or so and it lasted maybe a few months, after that I continued to go to Sunday school but stopped going to the main church. After a while I made the grevious assumption that anyone that is trying to do this on there own makes. That is, I thought I could do it on my own and I didn't need to go to church, because I would end up being a total nutcase or may become an Athiest if I had to be around people in church. (At least that church, though that sounds a bit mean.)
I did have some good experiences too I should point out. The coffee was great. I started drinking coffee not to look grown up like some kids did back then, but because the punch tasted kinda scary. Every time I would get myself some coffee and add my cream and sugar I would get the "You're going to stunt your grownth" joke from the little old lady who runs the refreshments table. The first time it made me worry, the second time it made me smile, but by the third time I wished that coffee would stunt my ability to hear tired old cliche jokes.
The church I go to now has a band, the church I went to then had a choir. I think some hymns sound good with a choir, but they of course had to sing hymns because they don't have a band and we couldn't get a 83 year old choir guy named Ralph to do some guitar rifts. Some of the songs are quite beautiful though, and even when I was 10 I found them hauntingly wonderful to hear.
Now I have to tell you the other side of the coin of course, I should start out by saying that Rev. Bridges was not the most exciting minister to hear, and that's not just because I was young, had the attention span of a goldfish for lectures, and had just drank 2 cups of coffee with way too much sugar in it. I don't blame him for it though, really I don't. I am sure alot of people think I am boring, sometimes I read my archives and go..yikes. For some reason though the 70 year old and older crowd liked that "young man" and most the parents of the kids that went to Sunday school avoided church for a reason.
Most of us have heard the term "watered down" church services. Some actually mean "watered down" and some mean "not from our denomination and therefore wrong." I could honestly say our's was pretty watered down, I wish I could say one person learned something 11:00 Sunday morning in that church and applied it within 5 minutes of leaving the building. Rev. Bridges could talk about nothing, and he could manage to do that for about an hour. My dad was not allowed to go with my mom unless he had a cup of coffee due to his bad habit of falling asleep during the sermon and snoring loud enough to make the pulpit kind of wobble.
It was a bit alarming, because in the brief time that I attended I really tried to get something out of it, and when it was done I would discuss what I heard and kind of learned.
My grandma would always go "That's what he was talking about!?" She basically went there because she knew she should go to church, but never really learned anything and honestly admitted to that once when I asked her what she liked about it. Rev. Bridges never talked about who Jesus really was, how God can change your heart and the importance of accepting Jesus, or really anything that made you want to learn anything new. His message every week seemed to be "You're generally good people, God will probably let you get into heaven as long as you are relatively good people." I tried asking questions back then, but if I got anyone to take me seriously, they didn't know the answer.
That was kind of the other problem, though it was complicated. It was the little church in our small town. Most people like to go where people know them, but I honestly wished I could be own person and people would think of me as a person of my own, and not Janus Sr's boy, or the little brother of that surly Ed or his sister Caroline. Kind of like how when Jesus went to Nazareth and everyone said "Isn't that Joe's boy?" every time he talked and no one respected him there. That's really about to as close as I can relate to Jesus sometimes without sounding like I am delusional, but growing up in a little town where everyone knows you and your family you tend to get typecasted.
The other problem in little towns is that no one really donates or tithes. Most people in Boucanville think the word Tithe has something to do with laundry detergents. So since most people kind of treat the offering plate as a tip jar at Starbucks, the church is usually broke. So that means for a church to survive it lives off the generous donations of one or two of the bluer blooded familys of Boucanville. Which means that also that they effectively "own" the church and everything that goes on there. Ministers learn either to teach the way the "Chairman" suggests or they usually end up walking. Since the Chairman doesn't want to hear this silly thing about them being sinners and needing Jesus to go into heaven because God doesn't cash checks, the churches are pretty dead.
So after a few frustrating month or so of trying to make it work with my local church, I dropped out. For a few years me and God talked, but it grew less and less....
See ya soon, as I tell ya the good news of what happened next.
posted by Janus Torrell at 8:30 PM
2 Comments:
Well-told. Do continue...
thank you, will do
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