My Childhood Friend Became a Pastor and Her Sermon Made Me Think About Things

Is it just me or are congregations getting smaller? Are fewer and fewer people going to church? There are several studies that say there are indeed fewer people going to church - at least fewer going on a regular basis. I have an overwhelming desire to site articles and research studies, but this ain't grad school or Lincoln Douglas debate so let's press on.

The choir didn't know the songs either. We've
got to work on our singing people! 

Sometimes when I visit a church I feel like I'm witnessing the fall of Rome. I see myself 30 years in the future with gorgeous curly gray hair saying, "Oh yes. I was there. People used to wake up on Sunday morning and put on these things called "panty hose" and go to a giant building filled with long benches where they would awkwardly sing oddly worded songs and recite things together and listen to a person talk about this really old book that was supposedly written by God." Most likely hipsters will buy up these old unique looking buildings and turn them into Speakeasies or art galleries or thrift stores or we will all have vintage stained-glass in our homes or whatever will be cool in 30 years.

Are churches dying? The congregations certainly are.

Me and my dear Grandmommy. She hates pictures. This is
as close to a smile as she would agree to.

Oh, don't get mad. I love old people. In fact, before church I went to visit with my nearly 102 year old great grandmother. She's amazing and ornery and I adore her. But she doesn't go to church. She's done lived out her church goin' days and now she sits in a chair and reads or watches the birds or sleeps. Nursing homes are filling up with former church goers, but no one is coming to take their seats in the pews. What is the fate of the church? Are churches dying because they are no longer relevant? Do we care?

Why am I going to church?

When I go to church I want to be awoken in some way. I want to have a new thought or a new insight or a new feeling or a new question. A good sermon can accomplish these things and my dear friend Becky Schwandt knows how to give a good sermon. She had me thinking about all kinds of things.

Becky is the pastor at Southminster Presbyterian Church in Springfield, MO.  I've known Becky since she was 13 - before either of us had gotten our periods or kissed a boy. Yeah, me and this girl go way back. We used to stay up late reading Bible verses to each other. We were locker partners during middle school and high school. We were roommates all throughout college - back when me and Rev Becky used to take breaks from paper writing by having "costume smokes" where we put on weird outfits and smoked cigarettes on the front porch of our dorm. We traveled Europe together surviving off nicotine, beer and friendship. Yeah, Becky's not some high brow self righteous pious preacher. Nope. She's a down to earth regular gal who happens to be really smart and has a close relationship with God. I think that's why her sermon was so accessible.

I don't have much to say about the actual service. The church is this huge triangle building with giant ceilings that make you feel very small and very disconnected from others around you. The singing was your standard awkward out of tune mumbling. They pray and make announcements and take offering and do other church stuff. At one point Becky poured water into a bowl and said some words I didn't listen to. I have no idea what was going on there. They did a children's message which is always fun, because children's faces often reflect the confusion we are all feeling. There was a lot of that repeating things together crap. The usual. Standard church fare bores me.

BUT...

Becky's sermon I really enjoyed. It was clear, concise, accessible, memorable and insightful. I would expect nothing less from a Drury graduate. Her topic was "The Longview" and trusting God's plan for us. She talked about Abraham and how he had hard a time being patient and waiting for God to fulfill his promise to give him a child. Her message: Be patient. Be obedient. Trust God. Good things will come.

Oh Rev. Becky. I understand what you are saying, but I struggle with this one.

What about Carpe Diem? What about live in the moment? We've all seen RENT - No Day But Today - right? I am a live in the moment kind of girl. Screw the consequences. Damn the Man! Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Who knows if there will be a tomorrow? Who says God has a plan for me anyway? Who says I want to follow God's plan? I do what I want.

Truthfully though, living in the moment is often a gamble. Sure, sometimes you end up at some crazy party drinking fancy drinks and dancing the night away with some glittertastic drag queens until the wee hours of the morning. But other times you end up walking 2 miles home wearing only a stranger's t-shirt with your contacts glued to your eyeballs and your head pounding. If you are a live in the moment person you must take the good with the bad. It's ain't always pretty.

But at least you know. There's no guessing "what might have been if..." I can't stand not knowing. I can't stand the thought of missing out on an experience. I'm the last one to go to sleep. I close down the bar. I don't want to miss one second. What if I wait for "God's plan" and nothing happens and I've missed out on all that fun/occasional shame and sorrow? What if "God's plan" is as boring as a traditional church service? What if God is just some concept we created to help us make sense of the chaos that is life and therefore there is no plan because there is no God and we are all just flailing around on this planet until we die and are buried in the ground?

I am full of questions. Well played Becky. Well played.

I do believe in God and I believe in Fate and I believe in a Plan. Kinda. I question it often. But then I have these moments where I can feel something greater at work. Then I feel good about my beliefs for a moment and then something else happens and I question everything again. It's a vicious cycle. This sermon came after a week of tragedy and death. Not tragedy that touched me personally, but those close to me and my family. It seemed like every day there was more bad news - someone else killed, someone else sick. How does that factor into the "longview"? How do gas leaks and mass spread cancers and strokes and heart failure factor into the longview?

I don't pray often, but I prayed at Becky's church. Well, I don't know if it was really praying. I said the many names of those I know who are experiencing deep sadness and uncertainty this week over and over. I said your names and I thought about you and I tried to send you my love. Does this do anything? No. Probably not. Sometimes it makes me feel better to know people are thinking nice thoughts about me, especially at times when I struggle to come up with nice thoughts myself.

I feel sad. Monday Sarah feels sad. Sunday Sarah only thought about these things briefly and then put them in a box that said "Don't Open Until Monday" so she could enjoy the Oscar party and all the food and fun without having to worry about it being ruined by sad feelings. I'm a great compartmentalizer. Woo.

Let us not end on a sad note. Life is a crazy journey. At least we don't have to do it alone, right? Thank God for that.

(I will now search the Internet for something to make us feel a little happier.)

Ah! I have something. My cousin posted this the other day when she was feeling a bit yucky. It certainly brightened my day. Listen to these goats yelling like humans and remember life is beautiful, weird, but beautiful.

P.S. Thank you for reading this. You make me feel loved, so I wanted to send a little love back your way. If I know you, if I don't, if we are estranged, if we are acquaintances, if we share the same experiences and beliefs or if we are complete opposites - whoever you are - thank you for sharing this journey with me. 

Swedenborgianismisticexpialidocious

 No rich man's worth his weight in dust. Bury him down same as they'll do us. God wants us busy, never giving up. He wants nothing but the whole wide world for us.

- Jakob Dylan

 "Nothing but the Whole Wide World"

 

 

Someday I will make a list of all the things I love. High up on that list would be driving in the sunshine with the windows down, my hair wild and free, listening to an amazing song, and singing as loudly as possible.

 

Sarah Drives to Church in the Sunshine Playlist:

1. Kishi Bashi - Manchester

2. Xavier Rudd - Follow the Sun

3. Jakob Dylan - Nothing but the Whole Wide World

4. Blitzen Trapper - Furr

5. Alt-J - Tessellate

 

 

Mmm. Best morning drive ever. Hmm, it's 10:59. What?! Oh my god! It's 10:59!!! I'm late! Where is this place?! Oh my god! I'm lost. I'm late and I'm lost! Ahhhhh!!!!

 

After a slight turn around, I find The Church of the Open Word (Garden Chapel) - a Swedenborgianism church in Creve Coeur. I'm about 7 minutes late (I hate being late). I jump out of the car and run up the stairs to the front door. I can hear the singing. They've already started. Crap. I figure I can just sneak in the back. No one will notice. I'll be really really quiet. I push open the door and enter the building looking tired but moderately adorable in my new seafoam cotton dress with tiny white flowers, a black cardigan, black leggings and black patent leather buckle shoes (my church shoes). Three steps later I am inside the main chapel and realize the joyous singing is coming from all of five people. There is no hiding my lateness. Plan B: Activate charming smile and sit down as quickly as possible.

 

Have you heard of Swedenborgianism? I hadn't.

 

Do you know how to pronounce it? I didn't. (Call me and I'll tell you. I don't understand phonics.)

 

Let's learn together! (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah)

       

Swedenborgianism was founded by Emmanuel Swedenborg, a Swedish scientist and theologian. Swedenborg had heavenly visions for some years- including conversations with angels, dead persons, and "demons" - then he had some revelations. Those revelations became Swedenborgianism in the late 1700's.

 

A Breakdown Of What I've Learned About The Beliefs Of Swedenborgians That I Think Are Mostly Accurate, But May Or May Not Be, Because Often Internet Sites/Books/People Are Full Of Lies:

 

1. They follow 2 main Commandments - Love God with all your heart and soul and love thy neighbor as thy self.  "Love is our very life" (a quote from a pamphlet on their beliefs)

2. They do not believe in The Trinity. (Father, Son and Holy Ghost) Jesus is God.

3. They think other religions are okay.

4. You should always be growing.

5. Question things. It's good.

6.  Hell is an internal state of evil. Heaven is an internal state of good.

7. They don't believe in a literal devil.

8. As a church they do not take a specific stand on social/political issues like abortion and homosexuality. Members are free to make up their own minds about such things.

9. What's true is true. What's false is false. (said by Swedenborg himself)

 

I should also include there are several websites that claim Swedenborgianism is a cult. I'll admit, the whole "I see dead people" thing is a little weird to me and hard to believe. But other than that, what I've researched about Swedenborgianism just kinda makes sense and actually seems less cult like than many traditional Christian churches.

 

Enough learning. Let's talk worship service...

 

So, super smiley Sarah gathered up all the necessary printed materials needed for today's service (bulletin, song sheets, etc) and sat down in the 2nd row of the tiny little chapel. A man named Paul was playing guitar and leading the group in song. A few more people trickled in and I didn't feel so bad about being late.

 

Oh how I love to sing! I will tell you, that tiny group of people sang with more volume and joy than any of the other churches I've attended who've had five times the voices. We sang lots of songs, so I just sang my little heart out. I miss being in a choir. I really do.

 

We prayed. We had a moment of silence. There was a ceremonial opening of The Word. Things were read. Joys and concerns were shared. Offerings were given. They did a lot of reading things in unison. You know, the usual church fare.

 

I greatly enjoyed this service. First off, the setting is beautiful and full of light. You can see the trees through the windows and the sun illuminates the whole room. The architecture of the building is actually based on Swedenborg's writings about the connection between spirituality and nature. The room is created of natural materials - stone and wood. The grounds surrounding the building are full of quiet places to reflect - including a meditation trail.

 

But mostly I enjoyed the service because it was positive. There was no "end of times" talk. There wasn't a listing of sins. There wasn't any bashing of other religions. There wasn't any guilt or condemnation. No one droned on for hours about so many unconnected things that I got lost and started playing M.A.S.H. (You know, the game where you marry Larry King and have 10 kids and drive a clown car and live in Death Valley? Tell me you know about this or I will feel very alone.) They talked about how God loves us and we should love each other. They talked about tools God supplies us with to navigate this world. They talked about sacrifice and forgiveness and love and love and more love. I found myself sending up a little gratitude to God -

(deep sigh). This week has been rather magical - music and friends and love and conversations round the fire and brownies and sunshine and snuggles. I've felt so much love this week. It's been overwhelming. I've literally felt full of love to the point where I thought I might explode kinda like Violet full of juice in Willy Wonka. It's been wonderful and so very needed. Thank you. Thank you for sending me here today. I don't think I could have handled another "believe what we believe or enjoy the sweaty blistering infernos of hell for all time" church. So, thank you for this moment and all the magical moments of this Valentine's week. Thank you for your love.

 

Then I did something I haven't done in a very very very long time....

 

I, Sarah Thomas, participated in Communion.

 

Now let me explain...

 

There are 3 main reasons I participated in this particular Communion (I'm really enjoying lists today. Deal with it.)

 

1. There were only 15 people in the whole room and Paul came around and offered it to each individual. It would have been inappropriate and a hassle to decline.

 

2. In my haste to get inside I left my water bottle in the car. My water bottle is another one of my security blankets. It's kind a like "My Buddy" - where ever I go it goes. It's sitting next to me right now full of delicious water. So, mid service I developed the very terrifying throat tickle and started to panic. I was in bad need of a drink and I was presented with a small cup of wine. Ask and ye shall receive, right?

 

3. The way Communion was presented was my main deciding factor. There was no - "All believers of Jesus may now take refreshment while sinners must remain parched in their evil ways." It was - "This is the Lord's table. All are welcome. Eat, Drink, remember him and try to live according to his teachings." He didn't say anything I didn't agree with. So I ate and I drank and I felt good about it.

 

After service they served refreshments. A sweet little table with apple slices and cheese and cake and other little nibbles was set up and people hung to chat. I grabbed myself a large cup of juice to ease my remaining throat tickle and explored the space. Several people came up to me and introduced themselves. I was asked if I had been married in the chapel. One of the ways this small church survives is off hosting wedding ceremonies. When I googled, "cutest church in st. louis" there was a listing of several wedding blogs with this church's name on it several times.

 

 

So, there I stood, unmarried, and drinking my juice. I browsed their extensive literature section and armed myself with some knowledge about Swedenborgianism beliefs. A woman named Emily approached and inquired about me and my life. I've been really hesitant to tell anyone at the churches I've visited about what I am doing. I told one lady at the Quaker meeting who privately e-mailed me and I told Emily. She and I chatted for a while and she told me some about the Swedenborgian belief structure and why it spoke to her and I shared some of my church experiences with her. She was incredibly kind and open minded. I enjoyed our chat greatly and decided I would stay after at more churches from now on.

Before I left, I look a tour of the grounds. I found the meditation trails. I was warned they were in a sad state. They were. I had to crawl through tangles of sticks to get to the sign that marked the meditation trail. That made me sad. In my brain I was thinking it would be nice to get a group together and clean up these trails. It wouldn't be hard. We wouldn't need much. I know I can't go around doing service projects at every church I visit...wait...yes, yes I can. I can do whatever I want. I'll see what I can figure out.

 

I spent a final few minutes sitting in the gazebo, reflecting in the sunshine. I thought about the concept of there being various paths to God. That makes sense to me, especially when I think about food. There are many ways to feel full. This world is full of endless flavors and tastes and ingredients. Whose to say what is right? Whose to say there is only ONE way to get full? True, some foods are healthier than others. Some, when eaten in excess will kill you. Some, even though they are healthy and many people enjoy them are absolutely digusting to me - like beets, blah, just cannot get on board with that one, but who am I to say it's not pallatable to you. Yes, I do believe it is getting close to lunch time. I am thinking in food.

 

 

 

To finish off this lovely morning I drove home with the windows down, the sun shining and my hair flying and sang this brilliant song "Manchester" by Kishi Bashi (click the video) over and over at the top of my lungs feeling full of light and love. It. Was. Magical.

 

Oh hello, will you be mine? I haven't felt this alive in a long time. All the streets are warm and grey. I read the signs. I haven't been this in love in a long time. The sun is up the sun will stay. All for the new day.

 

 

For more information about The Church of the Open Word please visit www.openwordchurch.com

They have Native American flute playing and poetry 1st Saturday of every month. Wanna go? I do!

 





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slaves to Jesus - Jehovah's Witnesses



Hello. Do you have a moment to talk? I would like to tell you about Moses.


Hannah gently explained her lack of availability to hear the riveting story of Moses as a group of wild and crazy ladies jumped around the house drinking mimosas and giggling, "I'm sorry. I have company right now." She took the pamphlet offered and closed the door. Lacey turned to me and asked, "So, are you going to go to the Jehovah's Witnesses church? Kinda seems like a sign doesn't it?" It did. So I went. Lacey, one of my bestest friends in the whole world, came too.

 

I was in Springfield, MO to celebrate my dear friend Kon's 28th birthday. We drank beer and wore suit jackets and had a glow stick fight and we danced and we cried and we laughed and had a really really really good time.

 

 

 

When Sunday morning arrived, I was a wee bit tired. Just a teeny tiny bit. I threw on a orangey-red cowl neck tunic and black leggings, tossed my hair into a messy ball of curls wrapped in a green polka dotted dew rag and didn't bother to wash off the previous nights make-up. I looked AMAZING. Lacey questioned what she should wear to the service. She was worried she would be inappropriate in pants. I called the only number I could find for the Jehovah's Witnesses church. A man answered the phone...

 

Man: Hello?

Me: Hello. Is this Kingdom Hall?

Man: No, but I am a Brother.

Me: Um, okay. Well, I'm interested in attending a service at Kingdom Hall.

Man: Which one? (apparently all JW churches are called Kingdom Hall, who knew?)

Me: One in Springfield, MO?

Man: Well there are several. (listing off places)

Me: What time do services usually start?

Man: Hmmm...around 10 usually.

Me: Are there any special dress codes?

Man: Not really. You know, you just want to dress as appropriately as you can.

Me: Okay. So there aren't any rules about what to wear?

Man: Not really. Just try to dress as appropriately as you can.

Me: Okay. Well, thank you very much. Have a nice day!

 

Dressed as appropriately as we could possibly be we entered Kingdom Hall - a small brick building without windows. Lacey was totally the only lady there wearing pants. We entered a large room with office-like chairs lined in rows in front of a small raised stage with a podium and a microphone. Within seconds of sitting down we were approached by several women (wearing dresses). Names were exchanged along with the information that this was our first visit to a Kingdom Hall. We were given Bibles and song books and work books for the Bible study portion of service. The order of the service was explained to us briefly - as there were no printed bulletins like in other churches. We met about 5 different women who engaged us in pleasant conversation. They were ridiculously friendly and approachable. Everyone was else was hugging each other and laughing and engaging in cheerful conversation.

 

Service started with a song. The song was awful. No one knew how to sing it. Especially us. It was awkward. Then we prayed. Then we sat down. Then this man, not a preacher or a minister, but a Brother got up to give a little talk. It was boring. So very boring. The only fun part of "the talk" was when we got to play the "How Fast Can You Find _____ Book of the Bible?" game. Ready? Okay! Daniel 6:9 Go! Now, Isaiah 14:5. Go! Revelation 16:3. (four seconds later) 1 Corinthians 17:2 Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Job 14:7-12. 2 Corinthians 9:15 Jeremiah 12:14 Go! Go! Go!

 

It's been a looooooooooooooooooong time since I picked up a Bible. How on Earth do you people find these pages so quickly? There are 66 books in the Bible for Christ's sake! You have them memorized? In order?!? The speaker must of used 20 different Bible references throughout his talk. That's a lot of page turning.

 

I only picked up a few things from Brother Terry's speech.

 

1. Our government is stupid and selfish (Couldn't agree more Bro Terry.)

2. The end is coming. Soon. (Hmm...well...)

3. God will do away with all imperfect human leadership. (Hooray!)

4. God will create a new world for the righteous. (Like a new planet?) (They consider the current world Satan's world.)

5. In the new world there will be no more healthcare. There will be no need. (Jehovahcare)

6. Something signifcant began in 1914. (I later researched and found that 1914 is when "the end times" began and Satan took over rule of Earth. My great grandmother was born in 1911. I must ask her what it was like before Satan took over.)

6. We must qualify for God's new world by living morally according to the Bible. (Ok. What page is that on? Never mind. I won't be able to find it in time anyway.)

 

Sidebar: I highly recommend reading up on JW's beliefs. There are some interesting ones.

 

Alright. We sang. We prayed. We listened to a boring talk from a man. Church is over now, right?

 

NOPE.

 

It's Bible Study time! Get out your workbooks, y'all. Break out them Bibles. Let's delve deep into the word of the Lord.



We turned to today's lesson in our Watchtower workbooks - You Are a Trusted Steward! This particular Bible study was about how we do not belong to ourselves. We belong to Jehovah. We are Jesus's slaves and must put his biding above our own. We must submit to God's will and be the kind of person Jehovah wants us to be (which is apparently a heterosexual non-drinker who only has sex in the confines of marriage).

 

 

 

 

 

So...two men stand on stage. One reads a short section of the lesson aloud and then the other asks the congregation to answer the study questions.

Example:

Man 1 reads: Jesus helps us to understand the relationship between master and slave. Once he spoke to his disciples about a slave who came home after working through the day. Does the master say: "Come here at once and recline at the table?" No. He says: "Get something ready for me to have my evening meal, and put on an apron and minister to me until I am through eating and drinking, and afterward you can eat and drink."

Man 2 asks: How does Jesus illustrate the relationship between master and slave?

People then raise their hands if they wish to answer the question and are called on BY NAME from Man 2 on stage. Then one of two men walking around with giant poles with microphones on them comes to you so everyone can hear your regurgitated answer. Five or Six people might raise their hands for each question. Men, women, old, young, believer, non-believer - all are allowed to answer questions.

 

Sister lady: We are to do the master's bidding before our own, but we still get to eat. Just after our work is done.

 

Lacey and I sat there taking in the scenary and reading through the interesting material in The Watchtower. Lacey pointed out an article about Invitro Fertilization and how it is wrong for lesbians to use such a procedure because it is a "Gross misuse of the sexual organs". Lacey is a lesbian who one day plans on having a family. We laughed.

 

Time was moving slowly and we were so very bored. Lacey was headed back to Kansas City shortly, so we had to cut out of Bible study early. All in all we were there for an hour and a half, and I would guess they had at least another hour of studying left to do.

 

Final Impressions about Jehovah's Witnesses:

 

* They are super friendly, warm, welcoming and very comfortable approaching new people.

* Their service is slightly more boring than traditional Christian services.

* This was the most diverse group of people I've ever seen in one place in Springfield, MO. Young, old, women, men, Asian, African-American, Hispanic...it was bizarre.

* This isn't an impression, but I just have to tell you that when we entered there was this SUPER pale and tiny lady weighing no more than 90 lbs with giant blue bugs eyes standing silently in the asile just staring and looking solemn. She looked like a ghost and talked with the tiniest voice. Only Lacey understands. She was terrifying.  

* Jehovah's Witnesses beliefs are strange, but not THAT much stranger than traditional Christian beliefs - God creating a new better world for the chosen few, women in a submissive role, homos are bad, duty to witness to others - this all sounds fairly familiar. The whole 1914 thing is weird, but in my experience, that's how it goes with organized religion. But the not celebrating birthdays or Halloween thing is just insane. I freaking love birthdays and Halloween is the greatest holiday ever.

 

So, this non-believer (or worldly person as JW's would call me) would like to wish Kendra "Kon" Konrady a super magical birthday full of sin and debauchery and love and cake and happiness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

Snow Day!

I was standing outside the St. Louis Erotic Art Show, Naughti Gras, discussing the pros and cons of hallucinogenic mushrooms with a horned man when it started to snow. And then it kept on snowing and snowing and snowing...until the ground was covered with the fluffy white death powder.


I do not care for snow.

But on this particular evening, I found myself thoroughly loving the snow. You know why? Because I was with my friends. Friendship, at least the type of friendship I am blessed to have in my life, can make even the most unpleasant of experiences somehow magical. After the art show we played in the snow like giant children - throwing snowballs, making snow angels and swinging on a swingset. We just laughed and laughed and laughed. It was awesome. It was so cold, but it was awesome.



As the snow continued to fall, I realized church was most likely not going to be an option in the morning - especially since the Swedenborgianism church I had picked was a 30 minute drive away. See, I don't drive in snow, see. It scares me, see. I freak out and scream and drive 12 miles per hour, see. I just don't drive in snow. So in the morning, I didn't go to church.

But I'd like to tell you about what I did instead...

I woke early bursting with energy and song and ready to share my excitement for the day with my two sleeping friends who were significantly less song-filled than I was. There was name calling and death threats, but I didn't mind. It's 8 am! We've been sleeping for almost 5 hours! Time to get up! Let's play! I love you! Let's snuggle! Look at the snow! Get up! Get up! Get up! I come from a long line of morning people and I'm extraordinarily silly. The combination is dangerous. Dangerously awesome.

After a delicious breakfast of fistfuls of banana bread and cold coffee we headed out to explore the snow. My dear friend Rebecca had to head home to her husband and children (she slept over due to the random snow attack) which left me and one of my closest friends, Hannah, to our own devices. I had planned on getting early morning wine drunk (don't judge me, what do you think Jesus drank for breakfast?) and watching a televised church service. BUT, due to the Superbowl, church on TV was cancelled. Ha! Fate was clearly sending me a message - today is not for church. Today is a SNOW DAY!

Dressed in 2 pairs of yoga pants, 2 shirts, my Annie at the Landers sweatshirt from 3rd grade that still fits (depressing and yet somehow amazing), wool socks, rainbow rainboots, my raincoat, 2 pairs of gloves, my scarf and my purple hat I headed out into the snow with my dear friend. We made a feeble attempt at building a snow man, but the snow wasn't cooperating. This is a defining moment - the moment your plans don't work out and you must choose what to do next. This is where my love for Hannah explodes, because when I suggested we paint the snow with food coloring she didn't even blink. She looked deep into my eyes with an expression that simply said "Fuck yes" and helped me
gather supplies.

Hannah added a sailboat to her sunset over the ocean
masterpiece.

Hannah helped me create a tree to replace the
one they tore down last week.

 




Hannah and I became friends when we were 17. So it's fairly impressive that we still speak to each other because everyone knows at 17 you are basically an intolerable selfish asshole. Somehow we survived. Our friendship is rooted in one main concept - unconditional love. I've bitten Hannah so hard I drew blood. She's kept me up all night playing naked bbgun shooting outside my bedroom window. We've had screaming fights followed by months of silence. We've dealt with police officers, enraged ex lovers, the promises and perils of binge drinking and bad decision after bad decision. We've seen each other for the low life scum we can occasionally be and responded with one simple message, "I love you friend. Always".

This is a powerful experience. Letting someone see you, really really see you, and knowing they still love you, really really love you.

It's more than that though. We've survived the bad stuff, but we also delight in each other. We are crazy cat ladies and proud to be. We talk openly about poop and sex and religion and politics and everything in between. There's nothing we can't say to each other - and believe me we have really tested that one. We explore. We play. We dance. We sing songs - like washing dishes and singing R.Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly".  We laugh. Constantly. No matter where we are or what we are doing, we just enjoy each other. Our friendship is freeing. We accept each other fully, with no conditions and no expectations but to love and be loved.

Out there in the snow, in nature, the sun shining down on us, the birds singing sweetly, being silly and creating something beautiful with my friend who loves me unconditionally I felt close to God. Which makes complete sense to me, but might not to you. I felt like God provided that moment much as God provided me a kindred spirit like Hannah. But I also felt close to God because I was frolicking through a small piece of this incredible planet and I feel connected to God in nature. I believe God is all around us - in the trees, in the birds, in the people we meet and even in the snow. But perhaps the greatest reason I felt connected to God in that moment was because I felt so much love. I felt it from the sunshine. I felt it from my friend. I felt it from myself. And to me, God is love.



The love I felt in that moment carried on throughout the day. And I know I sound like one of the cheesy Christian people I'm often complaining about, but it felt like God was smiling on me. Because....

I found a random fortune on my kitchen floor that I must have carried in on my boots from the snow, because sadly I haven't eaten Chinese food in over a month.

I had to say goodbye to Hannah who lives in KCMO, but we get hang out again on Friday and dress in costume! And to comfort me while she's away she left me this awesome picture of a turtle flying a kite (it's an inside joke, because we're best friends and best friends have weird inside jokes.)














Then I went to the grocery store and there was a live bluegrass band playing (St. Louis is the greatest city ever!) and I danced through the aisles. I decided to dine at the salad bar for lunch on this fine Sunday and IT was even in a good mood.








So, not a church Sunday, but a damn fine Sunday indeed. Don't worry though. My church days aren't over. I have plenty more churchin' to do. In fact, the next church will come from my hometown of Springfield, MO for I'ma comin' home for a lil' visit (unless there's another freak snow storm. in which case i will most likely stay inside and get day drunk and won't write anything at all).


I wish you a day that is as magical as swinging in the snow with your best friend after a sex show! ♥



The Journey

No. Ugh! No! Nooooooo. It's raining. It's kind of icy. It's sooooo cold. Moo. Blarg. Noooooo. I'm not going. I don't wanna. I don't want to freaking go to church. Church is booooooring. This church thing is stupid. I want Chinese food. I want a coke and Chinese food. I smell like campfire. So stinky. Man, now I have to take a shower. Ugh. My life is so hard.


After a very late night of drinking, fire watching and stranger meeting, I woke up bursting with life and energy ready to continue my incredible exploration of organized religion. Brimming with anticipation, I forced myself to shower, made a feeble attempt at concealing my dark circles with make-up and like a zombie grunting and moaning threw on something colorful and comfortable. This was a special morning, so I decided to make myself an extra special breakfast of cold taco meat and lots and lots of water. Hooray! It's time for church!

Due to yucky weather and the knowledge that I would most likely be somewhat "tired" this Sunday I planned to attend a neighborhood church just down the street called The Journey. I parked on the street about two blocks away from the church and me and my red hooded raincoat and rainbow rainboots got to take a little stroll. My grouchy mood lifted within seconds of my rain walk. There is something magical about walking in a certain kind of rain. It reminded me of living in London and all the rain soaked adventures I had there. Now here I am in St. Louis getting ready to have another.

The service before mine (I went to the 11:30am service for obvious reasons) was just getting out. The sidewalk was crowded with people, making it feel even more like London. As I lifted my head, I noticed a few strange things. All the people were young. Like early 20's young. Also, a significant portion of them were Asian. And EVERYONE was carrying a Bible. This sounds bad, but I felt scared. I'm not sure why, but the band of young Asians marching through the rain holding tight to their Bibles totally freaked me out. What is this church?

The Journey is one of those non-denominational church places that doesn't have pews or large paintings of Jesus at the last supper. Instead, they have chairs and a funky modern symbolic backdrop (various old windows hanging from the ceiling), an updated neutral color scheme, giant TV screens and a coffee bar. It's a "franchise" church. Meaning they have various locations offering the same/similar sermon at whichever one you choose. They have about 7 different services to choose from including Saturday and Sunday evening services.

The other churches I attended were mostly filled with old people and there wasn't any diversity. Remember at the other churches how I kind of stood out? Yeah, not here. Facial piercing - check. Tattoos - check. Colorful funky outfit - check. Plastic glasses (which I had way before they were cool) - check. Oh yes, here I looked just like everyone else. The Journey was like a rainbow of young people. Asians, Hispanics, African Americans and Caucasians all mingling together in youthful Christian harmony. The median age of the congregation couldn't have been over 25. I felt proud to be a resident of the racially and ethnically diverse South City St. Louis. Then I felt ashamed of my reaction to the large group of Christian Asians and decided I needed to set aside some time to figure out what that prejudice/fear is all about.

The lights dimmed. The show/service was starting. Cue the band. Everybody stood. A very talented and ridiculously attractive black man lead the congregation in, "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee." I was ecstatic. Not because of the cute boy, but because I freaking love contemporary Christian worship songs. That's right. I said it. I'm not ashamed. I'll say it again. I don't care. I freaking love contemporary Christian worship songs! My legs started bouncing. My hips started swaying. My eyes brightened. My lips burst into song. See, I grew up with these tunes. These were the songs of my childhood. They are old friends. I have great memories of singing "Lean On Me" and doing all the ridiculous motions with my bestest friends in the whole world - my church friends. So I sang. Loudly and joyfully. People were looking at me because I looked like I was on fire for Jesus, but really I was just enjoying some nostalgia. It's the same way I feel when I watch The Muppets. It was awesome. I wish there had been more singing.

Money. Money. Money. (I heart ABBA) Tithing came up several times throughout the service. There were advertisements for the church's 3 month tithing challenge on the TV screens and on flyers in the lobby. One of the pastors (there are several) got up and said there was a money back guarantee on your tithes. Seriously. Give 10% of your income to the church for 3 full months with an open and joyful heart and God will do amazing things in your life OR your money back. I'm not kidding. But I guess I kind of understand. Coffee bars don't pay for themselves, right? It was the idea that you had to give money to God through the church and then God would do wonderful things for your in return that didn't sit well with me. Hmmm...God's blessings are for sale?

A very charismatic pastor got up and said a few words about today's lesson/sermon - "Freedom from Self-Centerednesss". Then this man stepped off stage and a preacher on a video came up on the television screens hanging above the sanctuary. No one was being filmed on stage, because no one was on stage. It was a prerecorded video. I went to church and watched a video sermon.

I was so distracted by this whole video sermon concept that I barely listened to a single thing the preacher was saying. It was mostly globodyglook. It sounded a lot like the teacher from Peanuts cartoons. Wah wah wah wah Jesus. Wah wah wah wah community. He was one of those contemporary pastors with a funky haircut and stylish jeans that were, oh, maybe just a wee bit too tight. He did a lot of those common preachery things like breaking down words to their greek/latin roots, using large hand gestures and repeating key things for emphasis.

Example: (spoken normally) Jesus said, "Go out into the world." (Pause)  (with gusto) JESUS said, "GO! OUT! into the WORLD! (whispered seriousness) Go out into the world. That's. What. Jesus. Said.

I did tune in to a few things. He talked about how Christianity is the only religion that fosters a community with God. There was a brief "bashing" of other religions. Then we broke down this whole notion of community and what God really wants from us. Turns out it's the basics - don't covet or be envious, don't judge people, help people - even when it's hard, take care of yourself, etc. There was more stuff. I don't remember everything that went into being a good community for God. I only remember thinking "Yep, I'm awesome at that. Nailed it" after every thing he said. Then I reflected on how much I really liked the black sparkly nail polish I was rocking that Sunday. I usually hate nail polish, so it was a special moment. Clearly, the sermon didn't speak to me. Maybe because it was just a video.

Communion Time!

A real life non-video pastor got up and talked about The Last Supper - what it means and why they honor the ritual. I do not partake in communion, because I don't believe in Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. End of story. I've never felt weird about it. I've had 14 years of attending Christmas Eve services with my family to get used to saying "no thank you". It's just not my deal and I'm cool with that. I kind of feel the same way about Jesus that I do cocaine. I'm sure it makes you feel great. It's looks like you are having an amazing time dancing around and sweating. You know, it's just not for me. I'm cool man. I'm just going to be over here chilling. You do what you gotta do, but don't guilt me or make me feel bad because I don't feel like snorting your cocaine. Back off friend.

"Followers of Christ, please celebrate communion with us
by breaking off the bread and dipping it in the cup"

The pastor gave a rather odd spiel about those of us who should not partake in the communion. "You know what's in your heart. Don't just follow the crowd. If you are not right with Jesus this is a good time to sit and reflect (on your sin). We are always here to talk with you after service." The TV screen advised you how to properly execute communion and the path your section of the church was to follow. The believers walked their specified path and received their bread dipped in juice then passed by the godless souls who remained seated in sin. Several sitters were crying or bowing their heads. I don't care for this method of bringing people to Jesus. It felt like public shaming, although I wasn't ashamed. I did however want some wine. Real bad like. Luckily, my local grocery store serves everyone, even non-believers.

I don't know. I had several thoughts about God and Jesus and Jesus being a man but also God and maybe how that was really meant to be a message to us that God is part of man and cannot be seperated, but instead we turned it into THIS ONE GUY JESUS was man and God and he should be worshiped for all eternity and if you don't worship him you will starve in the bread and wine free gallows of hell. Then I thought - So many people believe in Jesus. How can so many people be wrong? Then I thought about Lance Armstrong and how lots of people thought that guy was some kind of God blessed miracle and he turned out to be a lying prick. Then my brain was tired and required rest.

I'm burning out on this Jesus stuff. Time for something different....

Black People Church

Did you know they had cars back in Jesus's time? Yes, The Bible says Jesus and the disciples were in one Accord.

Ha! Oh, church humor. (Thank you Ingrid.)

On the way to Morning Star Missionary Baptist Church we passed literally 15 other Missionary Baptist Churches. Vincietia, my dear friend and co-worker, explained that North City St. Louis has an abundance of three things: lounges, liquor stores and churches. She wasn't kidding. Driving down Martin Luther King Jr Boulevard went something like this - dilapidated building, packaged liquor store, vacant graffitied building, storefront church, lounge and then the cycle repeated.  Oh yes, St. Louis is among one of the many cities that honors Martin Luther King Jr's legacy with a famously impoverished, rundown and (at times) dangerous street. I love my city, but St. Louis is a rather segregated town. Some neighborhoods are more diverse than others. Still, when you look at racial maps of the city there are two areas that really stand out - West County (good schools, shopping malls, big houses) = lots of white people and North City (horrible schools, packaged liquor and church) = lots of black people.

"Oh, you're going to black church?" "They go crazy there." "People get filled with the spirit and drop on the floor." "There might be snakes." These were some comments I got when I told people of my upcoming church adventure. Hearing people's thoughts about various churches/religions has been a fascinating part of this process. I understand these comments though, and I don't judge. I grew up in Springfield, MO - the whitest city in the world. I'm a product of my raising, which I have to admit had subtle racist undertones. Mostly due to lack of exposure. I have no freaking clue what black people do at "black"church. Your guess is as good as mine.



 

I did have one expectation/dream/hope - I really wanted to see some little old ladies in colorful church hats. I was not disappointed. There weren't any snakes at Morning Star and no one "went crazy" or fell on the floor, but PRAISE BE TO GOD there were little old ladies in colorful church hats.

I was greeted with warm hellos and handshakes. People were chattering, telling "church jokes" and laughing. It was a friendly congregation. Everyone seemed to know each other. Vincietia grew up in this church. It's her family church. Her mother, sister and nephew were all in attendance. Families sat together in large groups.

Service started, but the chattering went on. In fact, it never stopped. Sometimes it even got louder. See, I grew up in a church where you didn't speak. When the choir sang an amazing song you honored it with your reverent silence. When the preacher said something that touched you greatly you gave a nod and nothing more. BUT NOT AT THIS CHURCH. Nope. At "black" church you get to express yourself freely. If you want to say "Amen" you just say it. If you want to clap, go fot it. Need to stand? Get on up girl! Want to get up and leave for a while? Just see your program for the asterisked times it's okay to leave (doors are opened and closed at different times during the service).

We sang songs. Not from a hymnal though. There were just songs and either you knew the words or you didn't. I didn't. There were announcements and concerns. We prayed. One time we all held hands and prayed. There was a recognition of visitors. I asked Vincietia if I HAD to stand. She said, "You don't have to stand, but everyone knows you're a visitor." True. I kinda stood out - either because I was looking fabulous in an cream and orange embroidered tea dress my father bought me in September that still fit even after the Christmas cookie binge (Can I get an amen?) or because I was the only white girl in the room.

It came time for the sermon. Um...it got kind of confusing. It started with a reading from Matthew 27 about the people being asked who they wanted released, Barabbas or Jesus, and how the people not only wanted Barabbas a thief and murderer released instead of Jesus the nice guy who fed them fish, but they also wanted Jesus to be crucified. Then the preacher talked about emotions getting the best of us. Then "choosing the right Jesus". Then about how God is good all the time. Then how God controls all the things and you don't. Then going to hell on a technicality. Then the upcoming return of Jesus. Then - How we're all born sinners. How we don't know how much time we have left. How getting high and drunk is awesome, but only for a while and then you are all sad and depressed without it, but if you get high on Jesus it lasts and lasts....

Sidebar: During the middle of the sermon I needed a drink of water. I pulled out my water bottle to take a drink and Vincietia quickly stopped me and said, "Don't let anyone see that. You can't drink during the service. I'm so sorry, I should have told you." WHAT? Is this a thing? No water during service? Why? I thought about it for 5 minutes and then tuned back in to the preacher...

The preacher started talking about how he had a special relationship with God and how God tells him things that he doesn't tell the rest of us and that's why we need to come to church. Next up, going with the crowd/gossiping - both not good. Back to the story of Barabbas and Jesus and how they chose the wrong Jesus (Barabbas's first name was also Jesus, so confusing). Then about how it's good they chose the wrong Jesus and how great it all worked out in the end. Then His Eye Is On The Sparrow was recited briefly. Then the preacher called for people to accept Jesus and be "saved" citing once again how no one is promised a tomorrow.

After a total of two hours, service was over. I was confused, exhausted and needed a cigarette.

The sun was shinning and I decided to drive home down Sarah Street. I'd never been that far North on Sarah. The street was littered with mostly vacant buildings, which in my social work mind I reframed as Sarah Street is a street of great potential. The sermon stayed with me, mostly because I adamantly disagreed with most of what the preacher had to say. I don't believe in heaven or hell or sin or even Jesus as The Savior really, because I don't believe there is anything we need saving from. I believe in God. Well, kind of. In my own unique way. I thought about what the preacher said about God being good. I believe that, but I wrestle with it. If God is in control of all the things, then why does God let so much bad shit happen. That bothers me. Constantly.

Almost home and still on Sarah Street I saw two women sitting in their car having an argument. One of the women had the longest hair I'd ever seen. Seriously. It was flowing over the car seat and onto the floor. It was taking up most of the drivers seat she was sitting in. There was her face and then a giant cloud of hair all around her. I stopped in the middle of the intersection and just stared in disbelief. How on Earth does that woman have so much hair? How does someone go through life with so much hair? How does she eat ice cream? The two women stopped talking and gave me an odd glance. I drove on. Did I really see that? Am I hallucinating? Wait! Am I high on Jesus? Then I started giggling uncontrollably.

Oh God, you may or may not be "good", but you certainly have a good sense of humor. I bet you totally get a kick out of the thought of Jesus and all the disciples driving around in a Honda Accord.

I realised something after seeing that Mermaid lady - I have funny thoughts sometimes, no, often. The way I see the world is....well, funny. I always thought my humor was really a defense mechanism I honed from growing up morbidly obese, so I've always kind of hated it. But in that moment, laughing hysterically in my car, I realised my humor is just part of who I am. Part of who I believe God made me and something I actually kind of enjoy about myself. I'm telling you people, this church stuff is crazy. 3 visits to church and I'm already feeling better about myself. I highly recommend it.

Until next time...

Silent Waiting - The Religious Society Of Friends

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.  
                                                                                                                 Mother Teresa
                                                                                                                   

The sign read Please enter in silence. I knew this would be the expectation before I stepped through the door of The Religious Society of Friends building. I was greeted with a warm welcome and looks of surprise. A kind woman named Margaret asked if I understood about Quakers. Had I read anything? Did I know what to expect? I smiled sweetly and humbly stated I'd done some research and was prepared for the experience. Humility and a sweet smile will take you far in life. She explained that I could sit where I pleased and directed me through the door to the silent meeting space. Behind the door was a large open room with beige walls and long windows that provided a perfect view of several bare trees swaying gently in the cold winter wind. Two rows of pews were organized in a circle along with mismatched floral couches and wooden chairs. Colorful afghans rested over some of the seating. The whole place smelled like my Great Grandmother's house. I immediately felt at home.



 

About 25 people slowly trickled in, quietly removed their coats, settled into silence and waited. What my generation refers to as "Cosby sweaters" was the predominate fashion of the attendees who were mostly seniors age 70 and over. Dressed in a fuchsia floral crochet baby doll dress, Peter Pan collar, black cardigan, black tights and black patent leather buckle shoes I was hard to miss.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. After the service several people were eager to meet me. One women explained how Quakers handle business meetings. "We wait" she said. "Someone presents an issue, like fixing the air conditioner, and then we wait." Quakers, at least this group of Quakers, sit in silent expectant waiting of divine leadership. That's how they worship. That's how they make business decisions. No sermon. No hymnal. No arguing over the finances. They just wait.

I didn't have to wait long. Within 5 minutes of silent waiting I was blessed with a fast moving stream of thoughts. Oh so many thoughts. Did I leave the oven on? I'm thirsty. This is nice. Ooo...trees. Why do they have a piano? I should close my eyes. I wonder what all these people are thinking about. What should I be thinking about? Probably not this. What the hell am I going to write about sitting in silence? I should stop thinking about the blog and just focus on the experience. Quiet your mind Sarah. Come on. It's like yoga. Breathe. In with the good out with the bad.

Breathing really helped. Thanks yoga! My mind went quiet. My body was calm. I thought perhaps I should pray, but I'm not actually a big pray-er. To me, prayer has always felt like the grown up version of a letter to Santa. So, instead of praying I decided to focus on gratitude... How cool is it that there are places like this to go? FOR FREE. A quiet warm space where all are welcome, it's fantastic. I'm grateful for freedom of religion. Not everyone has this. Not everyone has most of what I have. Why am I so blessed? I have nice clothes. I've traveled the world. I can go to the grocery store and buy anything I want to anytime I want to. My family loves me even though I'm kind of weird. My friends love me too. I've even been in love with a person who loved me back! I'm really glad I was born with curly hair...

Suddenly a woman stood up and spoke briefly about how she felt we should honor Martin Luther King, Jr. Day - with service. She was experiencing brief divine leadership to speak. Then she sat back down and I closed my eyes and returned to gratitude.

...Nature. Hmm...I'm so grateful for all the beautiful trees, the sun, the stars, and the privilege of a life that affords me plenty of moments to stop and just appreciate all the beauty around me...

Another interruption. Service was ending. It's been an hour? Friends were invited to share "joys or concerns" so we could "lift them up in the light." I like that saying and I understood it without really knowing what it means. Joys and concerns were shared and then a handshake was given that started more handshaking and we were done. Well, almost. Since I was clearly a newcomer I was asked to say my name and a little bit about myself. "Hi, I'm Sarah and this is my first visit" is all that came out of my mouth. Luckily they accepted this answer.

Content. I felt so content in that space with those Friends. Not joyous. Not happy. Not sad. Not bored. Content. It felt good. It felt peaceful. I wouldn't mind returning to The Religious Society of Friends meeting again. I enjoyed this version of church where I wasn't expected to repeat words I didn't believe or songs I didn't quite understand. Nothing was required of me but silence. I waited in silence and found gratitude and peace. Not too shabby.

Then I went home and made chicken.