wolty
22nd March 2010, 03:03 PM
I recently went to church. It was a Sunday evening worship, informal and community orientated.
It was in an inner suburban church with a youngish pastor running the show.
There were 18 people there, and one heathen, satan worshiping non-believer (that would be me), in a big church that could probably seat 200.
I went with an open mind, interested to see, talk, and experience the worship of one of the thousands of gods said to be in existence.
It started with a prayer. Now we all know how that ends. Nothing happens. Or if it does happen, it was actually statistical luck. I looked around at the earnest people praying and had the feeling of why are you bothering. Your time would be much better spent talking to your neighbours, family, friends, finding out how their lives are going, what there fears are, what their true loves are. But no, they are praying to one of the gods, that doesn’t talk back, doesn’t answer prayers, doesn’t even give them the time of day.
Then we headed onto a song. I paid particular attention to the words that everyone else was singing. It started with sin, how they should all be thankful that the lord jesus died for their sins (even before they had committed any), how the grief at the death of jesus should be foremost in their minds, and how they should be subservant because of this ultimate sacrifice that their lord made for them. I watched how everyone took on board how bad they all were, how much sin they had in their lives, how wonderful it was for someone else to make that sacrifice. It left me feeling sad for everyone there.
Then another prayer (couldn’t we just have got the prayers done in one go?, and why do we need to pray? Shouldn’t god just know?) then another song about sin, death, subservience, grief.
So far, so good. We are now 20 minutes into the service, my feelings for all involved are a mixture of sadness at what they are going through, coupled with sadness at the depressing nature of it all.
We head onto a sermon about servitude, belief and ultimate sacrifice. I won’t bore you with the details, but the interesting thing I found was the interpretation. The pastor reiterated about serving the lord. I felt a different interpretation, I could understand how one could do unspeakable things for god, how service to the lord is above all else, even to the extent of killing other humans. How people can be deluded by belief in dogma, to the extent of starting wars, killing their neighbours, even their own children.
Wow, there I was sitting there thinking about these people going through all this. I felt sad for them, I felt depressed for them, I felt embarrassed for them, and I actually felt pity for them.
And then it was over. One hour of some very interesting feelings, observations and thoughts. And when it was over, everyone got together and had a chat, smiled, talked, laughed. Like they had all gone through something together, come out the other side, and the world was ok. I just wondered if they noticed all the negative connotations.
It doesn’t make me wonder anymore, why most people don’t want to go to church.
It was in an inner suburban church with a youngish pastor running the show.
There were 18 people there, and one heathen, satan worshiping non-believer (that would be me), in a big church that could probably seat 200.
I went with an open mind, interested to see, talk, and experience the worship of one of the thousands of gods said to be in existence.
It started with a prayer. Now we all know how that ends. Nothing happens. Or if it does happen, it was actually statistical luck. I looked around at the earnest people praying and had the feeling of why are you bothering. Your time would be much better spent talking to your neighbours, family, friends, finding out how their lives are going, what there fears are, what their true loves are. But no, they are praying to one of the gods, that doesn’t talk back, doesn’t answer prayers, doesn’t even give them the time of day.
Then we headed onto a song. I paid particular attention to the words that everyone else was singing. It started with sin, how they should all be thankful that the lord jesus died for their sins (even before they had committed any), how the grief at the death of jesus should be foremost in their minds, and how they should be subservant because of this ultimate sacrifice that their lord made for them. I watched how everyone took on board how bad they all were, how much sin they had in their lives, how wonderful it was for someone else to make that sacrifice. It left me feeling sad for everyone there.
Then another prayer (couldn’t we just have got the prayers done in one go?, and why do we need to pray? Shouldn’t god just know?) then another song about sin, death, subservience, grief.
So far, so good. We are now 20 minutes into the service, my feelings for all involved are a mixture of sadness at what they are going through, coupled with sadness at the depressing nature of it all.
We head onto a sermon about servitude, belief and ultimate sacrifice. I won’t bore you with the details, but the interesting thing I found was the interpretation. The pastor reiterated about serving the lord. I felt a different interpretation, I could understand how one could do unspeakable things for god, how service to the lord is above all else, even to the extent of killing other humans. How people can be deluded by belief in dogma, to the extent of starting wars, killing their neighbours, even their own children.
Wow, there I was sitting there thinking about these people going through all this. I felt sad for them, I felt depressed for them, I felt embarrassed for them, and I actually felt pity for them.
And then it was over. One hour of some very interesting feelings, observations and thoughts. And when it was over, everyone got together and had a chat, smiled, talked, laughed. Like they had all gone through something together, come out the other side, and the world was ok. I just wondered if they noticed all the negative connotations.
It doesn’t make me wonder anymore, why most people don’t want to go to church.