MOTHER OF GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This week has been insane it's one catastrophe after another.


Currently....

I don't have a car

My jaw is swollen and I look like a chipmunk and existing is painful

My shower wall collapsed

I broke my only mirror


Sob

Sob

Sob

I have all kinds of interesting insight to share with you about everything happens for a reason, but for now I'll keep it short and say church was impossible this week and Happy Thanksgiving.

Sarah Goes To A Spiritualist Church: An Illustrated Journey

 

This is the tale of my Sunday adventure.

 

 

Reba is actually Rebecca, but I like to call her Reba. Mostly, because she doesn't like it and teasing your friends is fun. But also because it's easier to type than Rebecca, which contains so many letters. Therefore, we'll be sticking with Reba for the purposes of this story.

 

Let us begin....

 

 

On Sunday night, after eating a delicious Thai dinner, Sarah and Reba journeyed far to South County St. Louis to experience a Spiritualist church. When they arrived at the address Google Maps directed them to it didn't look like a church at all, but it was. Not all churches come with stained glass windows and tall stone bell towers. Some churches come with a large selection of herbs and incense,  books on how to cast spells and faerie paraphernalia.  Inside the store Pathways was the regular gathering of Circle of Light Independent Spiritualist Church. The girls parked the car and walked slowly toward their adventure.

 

 

"We're here for the service" Sarah said timidly, hoping she was in the right place. "Wonderful" said the man with the long pony tail and forearm tattoos. Sarah then remembered that she was out of incense and decided to take advantage of the opportunity. She carefully smelled the various packages while Reba wandered around the store oooing and awwing over all the pretty crystals. Looking around the store at all the witchcraft candles and spell books and tarot cards gave the girls an idea. Without a word, they looked at each other and knew what the other was thinking - we should totally get into this stuff. It looks so fun!

 

 

 

Ponytail man turned out to be one of the Reverends at the church, Rev. Bill. As people were setting up for service the girls were handed the following materials they would need for the evening:

 

1. A worship book containing prayers, belief statements and songs.

2. A yellow paper containing the many beliefs of Spiritualism such as -

 WE BELIEVE that we are a pulsating energy field of life force, composed of our vibrations, be they negative or positive, energy-taking or energy-giving WE MAKE THE CHOICE.

More Spiritualist Beliefs  

3. Rainbow chair cushions, because the folding chairs we going to be VERY uncomfortable.

4. A pamphlet on Circle of Life briefly outlining their services and activities.

5. A piece of paper and a pen for writing your name so you could receive a Message from the other side courtesy of a Messenger.

 

 

Slowly the front of the store was converted into a worship space. An alter stood at the front of the room with a symbol the girls didn't recognize. Above head were colorful pieces of paper hanging from the ceiling like a banner. On each paper was a memory or statement about Rev. Deborah, Pathways owner and main Reverend of the church, who recently passed away. At the front of the room were four chairs for the leaders of the service who wore purple scarves around their necks.

 

 

A real photograph for comparison.

 

 

 

The girls took two seats near the back. Service was scheduled to start in five minutes (6:45 pm). Other people entered the space and filled in the chairs around them. Everyone was chatting. The room echoed with the sounds of new agey chatter - chakra balancing music, horoscopes, the horror of dealing with Capricorns, moon cycles, reiki stuff, etc. Sarah and Reba talked about rollerskating and the perils of mixing alcohols.  The leaders discussed who would be doing what during the service. Sarah was unclear as to why everyone was just sitting around talking twenty minutes after service was supposed to start. "Are we waiting on someone?" "Is something wrong?" "Is service ever going to start?"

 

 

It was now 7:15 and Sarah was getting frustrated. Reba has no concept of time and therefore had no concerns. She enjoyed sitting and taking in the culture.  Finally, it was time for service. Rev. Bill stood and thanked everyone for their quiet energy work during the first portion of the service. Sarah thought silently, "Hmm..talking is form of quiet energy work? Who knew?"

 

 

 Rev. Bill stood and asked a member to lead the group in Ohming. He and the three other leaders exited the room while the rest of us sat in our chairs and saying "Ohm" three times. It was unclear what they were doing on the other side of the door. Quiet energy work/talking about stuff? Drinking whiskey? Meditating? Back massage circle? Bubble gum blowing contest? The world may never know.

 

 

 

 

After some prayers and reciting things in unison Rev. Bill gave a brief inspirational talk. There were four themes in his talk. The first was about Jesus or "Christ". Spiritualists believe in Jesus, but in a different way than most Christians. Bill discussed how there is a light in all of us, a Christ in all of us. At this point Sarah began imagining herself growing a beard and wearing a cream robe as Sarah Christ. This amused her. The other themes of the talk were about using the tools we are given, remembering how fortunate you are and being grateful for all you have.

 

 

 

Then it was time for messages from spirits.

 

 

Spiritualist believe we can communicate with "the other side" - beings in the spirit world. Messengers are trained to communicate with specific spirits who provide messages for the living.  

 

 

Here's how works -

 

The Messenger draws a name from the basket. He or she reads the name aloud and makes eye contact with the person receiving the message. Both parties raise one hand toward the other - sending energy. The Messenger closes his or her eyes, quiets the physical realm and listens to the voices from the spirit world. Then the Messenger receives, interprets and delivers the message.

 

Example: Carla T. Hello. (both raise hands. messenger closes eyes). Yes, they are showing me an image of a tree. It's the tree of knowledge. The spirits are telling me that you need to eat from the tree of knowledge, so now is a good time to seek out new books/literature. Maybe go to the library.

 

 

Reba and Sarah's messages were by far the most interesting.

 

 

Reba's Message

 

 

The Messenger acknowledged Reba and raised his hand. Unsure of what to do and feeling slightly foolish Reba ever so slightly raised her hand too. "I see a unicorn" were the Messengers first words. Sarah tried hard to remain poised and calm. "You are riding your unicorn. You need to use this unicorn to help you. Let your unicorn's horn tear through any obstacles in your way so you can get to better things." Reba nodded a silent "thank you". Sarah and Reba avoided eye contact for fear of gigglefits.

 

 

Sarah's Message:

 

 

 

Sarah's message came from a different Messenger than Reba's - a female who was communicating with the spirit "White Mountain". Immediately after raising our hands the messenger said, "You are riding an arrow like a pogo stick. The arrow is plowing hard into the ground - symbolizing all the work you have to do, but White Mountain is saying you need to have fun with the work ahead of you. So work hard, but have fun with it."

 

 

Everyone in the room received a message. Even the Messengers. While the messages are directed toward a specific person, they are often applicable to other people in the room too so everyone is encouraged to listen carefully. Communicating with spirits and passing along messages is a unique and defining characteristic of Spiritualist churches.

 

 

The last activity of worship was guided meditation. One of the leaders instructed everyone to close their eyes and picture themselves sitting in a large quiet field.

 

 

Sarah pictured herself with long flowing curls sitting peacefully in half lotus among the bright twinkling stars.

 

 

We were guided to focus on an issue or problem we were facing.

 

 

We were told to experience the problem through our physical self, emotional self, mental self, spiritual self. Noticing how each self felt different/better.

 

 

BUT...

 

 

Roughly two minutes into meditation Sarah experienced brain overload, as she does during most meditation sessions.

 

 

 

 

Her quiet reflective time became a torture chamber of unrelated thoughts. She became fixated on her inability to picture herself accurately - always making herself prettier than she was or seeing her face as some Picasso painting- misshapen and weird. Next she was flooded with movie images and memories of her weekend in Hannibal, MO with her best friends. She started thinking about what she would do after service - the errands she needed to run, the laundry she needed to finish, the crap she needed to clean. Frustrated, her mind turned to thoughts of drinking wine immediately following the conclusion of worship.

 

Sarah did not enjoy the meditation.

 

 

 

 

To conclude service everyone held hands and sang "Let There Be Peace on Earth". Reba and Sarah didn't know the words. Sarah, loving music, mumbled along. Reba stood silent.

 

 

With hugs and well wishes worship was over. Sarah and Reba bid their goodbyes and were out the door.

 

 

They hopped in the car and immediately started to giggle about their adventure.

 

 

It was an odd, but interesting experience.

 

 

 

 

On the drive home Reba couldn't get the closing song out of her head, but she enjoyed singing a different version changing the word "peace" to "poop". Reba and Sarah sang out "Let there be poop on Earth and let it begin with me". The girls had a deep love for the word "poop" as it almost always made them giggle. Though "poop songs" were one of Sarah's all-time favorite things she couldn't change the sour expression on her face. She was still frustrated by her meditation experience. Reba tried to provide helpful ideas for how Sarah could improve her meditation. This only angered Sarah further, as she is immature and doesn't often take improvement suggestions well.

 

The girls rode in silence briefly.

 

 

Until...

 

 

 

They stopped at one of the happiest places on Earth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Target.

 

 

It was there, through the spending of excess amounts of money on things she never planned on buying, that Sarah regained her usual pleasant attitude.

 

 

 

Afterwards the girls enjoyed some cheese and crackers and of course a bottle of wine along with the pleasure of the others company. Sarah was grateful for a friend like Reba who is always willing to embark on new adventures with her - even when she's crabby.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*A special thank you to Beth for suggesting I attend a Spiritualist service and providing information. It was a fascinating experience. THANK YOU!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday Night Churchin'

I grew up going to church every Sunday morning and every Wednesday night. Sunday worship meant waking up early, bathing, hot rollers, restrictive tights, itchy petticoats and sitting quietly through long boring sermons with only donuts and lemonadedrink to look forward to. Wednesday nights were a whole other story. Wednesday nights were like a ruckus frat party compared to Sunday morning worship.

Wednesdays were my favorite.

There was no bathing or formal dress code on Wednesday. My family would arrive around 5:00 pm in our grubby school clothes to a fellowship hall full of silver hair and the smell of meatloaf. On the table they would lay out the deserts - a few varieties of jell-o, some kind of pudding thing and, if I was lucky, chocolate cake with white frosting and chocolate chips. The dessert table was always my first stop. My mom would pay the small fee for dinner and we'd grab a tray and wait in line for ham and beans and cornbread or fried chicken and mashed potatoes with green beans or some other Heritage Cafeteria style meal. I would quickly abandon my family and set off to find my friends. We usually ate in secret locations where we would plot our evening shenanigans.

Wednesdays were full of shenanigans.

I've always been a rather observant person. I pick up on things easily. This skill has been very useful in my adulthood, especially in my work as a therapist. However, in my childhood I seldom used this skill for good. Mostly, I used it for shenanigans. For instance, on Sunday mornings I noticed the teachers getting supplies out of a locked closet. I noticed the closet contained glitter and yarn and various other fun craft items. I also noticed they kept the key on top of the door. On Wednesdays I noticed the classroom floor was usually empty because everyone was eating dinner. I noticed that if you ate dinner quickly there was at least a half hour of free time...for shenanigans.

For the children at University Heights Baptist Church Wednesday night programing meant a hearty dinner, children's choir and then sexually segregated Christian education. The boys departed to RAs (Royal Ambassadors)- a Christ centered version of Boy Scouts. They talked about Bible stuff, made man-crafts and discussed missions around the world. The girls departed to GAs (Girls In Action) - a Christ centered slumber party.

Immediately after finishing our chocolate cake me and my girl posse jumped into action. We would break into the Sunday School supply closet taking yarn and sequins and glitter and head to our GA classroom. There we would sprinkle glitter and sequins all over the top of the fans. Then we would create a web out of all the yarn - tying yarn to the door knob and weaving it through the chairs and tables and toys and drawer handles until the entire room was covered in yarn and impossible to walk through. We'd crawl on our bellies, turn off the lights and squeeze out the door. Then we would trod off to choir full of mischief and giggles and anxiously await the moment our leader, my beloved Nana, would open the classroom door.

We did this at least once a month. Yet, she never saw it coming.

Nana is in blue - not the best pic, but the only one I had.

My Nana, a Jesus loving rhinestone jean jacket wearing pink lipsticked innocent with a heart of gold, would fuss over how the door was stuck. We tried to stifle our giggles - hitting each other and biting our lips. She'd pull harder and the chairs would topple and the door would give way. She'd turn to us and give us all a death glare. Pushing open the door she would flick on the lights and scream out in terror at the sight of the mass destruction we created. We would burst into hysterics. She would scream at us to "clean up this mess right now!" And we'd start cutting down the yarn while hunched over crying with laughter. My Nana had a way of yelling that was not only completely non-threatening but also very entertaining. She had a slightly high-pitched country twang to her screams that made us roll with laughter. We'd be on the floor in tears with balls of cleaned up yarn in our hands barely able to breathe through our cackles.

Once everything was cleaned up we were scolded and told to sit in our chairs. She would begin the lesson standing at the chalkboard and writing something about missions work. One of us would complain that we were hot so she would walk over to the wall and turn on the fan. Then, little colorful flakes of glitter would rain down from the ceiling covering us and the desks and the floor. Even though we'd done it multiple times before, she screamed out in shock and horror. We howled with glee. By this point she would become livid and irrational. She would just start yelling random bizarre things out of exhaustion and frustration. Once she was so angry that she yelled at me to "get under the table." Sitting on the floor under a tiny table, my loud gasps for air between laughs made it impossible to carry on with the lesson. In fact, for the several years that my Nana taught us in GAs I don't think we ever made it through one single lesson.

Now, I'm sure you think I'm a horrible person to have repeatedly pulled pranks on my sweet little Christian grandmother. I can't really argue with you, but keep in mind that I was a child and children are horrible. Nana took it all in stride though. She was a generous and forgiving person (and fortunately quite forgetful). Eventually she would give up, break out the cookies and we would sit around and chat about nothing. Even though we were little shits she loved us anyway.  She was even willing to take us on field trips (mostly to the pool). I learned more about God's love through my Nana's kind and gentle ways then I ever would have from some silly GA workbook. ( <-- classic Sarah Goes To Church sappy moment.)



My best church memories are Wednesday night memories. Wednesday nights always felt more real to me than all the formal Sunday fare. So, I felt like it was important to seek out at least one Wednesday evening church service during my church adventure. Lots of churches have started offering informal weekday services so I figured I would have a few to choose from.

Nope.

Two. I found two. One nearly an hour away and the other in a slightly dangerous part of North City St. Louis. There was no way I was taking a two hour drive Wednesday night. That only left one option - danger. 7:00. Pitch black. North City. Totally alone. Awesome.

I found a parking spot right in front of the Transformation Christian Church and World Outreach Center which put my mind at ease. I walked through the heavy green metal doors into a large gymnasium that's been turned into a worship center equipped with speakers, big screens, office chairs and your standard Christian shrubbery - ferns. A lady handed me a stack of mustard yellow church papers and I found a seat on the aisle.

A few minutes after I arrived it was time...

CONTEMPORARY CHRISTIAN WORSHIP MUSIC (CCWM) TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I've searched over and over for a church that just sings THE WHOLE TIME, because I love love love singing CCWM. "Here I am to Worship" - love it. "Awesome God" - ugh fantastic. "Lord I Lift Your Name on High" - my favorite ever. I can't help myself. When these songs start playing I flash back to my youth and sing with the passion/insanity of an impressionable young girl at Christian Bible Camp. On Wednesday night I was rocking out with some sweet harmonies. CCWM often repeats over and over giving you plenty of time to work out different harmonies. The first 20 minutes of worship service I was in heaven - singing and swaying my little heart out.

Then, once CCWM time was over, I traveled to place I rarely ever go except when flying or watching episodes of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic on repeat - Bordemville.

It began with a soloist, who started out strong. I thought perhaps my joyful energy was going to carry on throughout the whole service. She sang out "HALLE" and the congregation would repeat "HALLE". Then she'd sing out "LUJAH" and we'd repeat "LUJAH". Then we repeated the cycle. Then repeated it again. I'm not joking when I say we did this FIFTY times. I had a brief freakout moment thinking there was some glitch in the universe and like a needle that's stuck on a record I would be stuck in this HALLE(halle)LUJAH(lujah) moment forever. The whole congregation was in a trance after the song ended. We'd been hallelujahed into a coma.

The Hallelujah Coma.

As the sermon began people slowly started coming back to life - getting out their Bibles and notebooks and pens ready to hear The Word of God. I don't own a Bible and never think to bring pen and paper to church, so in order to feel part of the group I pulled out my handy dandy iPhone and used Notes to document interesting points from the sermon.



"Seven Steps to Prayer That Brings Results" was the title of today's lesson. Here is my interpretation of the seven steps based on the sermon I experienced Wednesday night.

Step 1: Don't pray to Jesus. The Bible specifically states that you are to pray to God. If you pray to Jesus you are doing it wrong.  All prayers that begin with "Dear Jesus" or my personal favorite "Dear Lord Baby Jesus" will be promptly ignored.

Step 2: Read the King James Version of your Bible as it is the simplest to understand. The frequent double negatives, old world terminology and circular language are your quickest route to answered prayers.

Step 3: Don't dream it. Be it. Imagine your prayers are already answered and it shall be so. (For more information on Step 3 read The Secret)

Step 4: You can't just have faith in God. You have to
                                                                       read your Bible too. Fill yourself with the Word. The
                                                                       more you put in you - the more you are able to spit out.
                                                                       Otherwise the enemy will get you off. (Those are actual
                                                                       quotes from the minister. It took everything I had not to
                                                                       burst into juvenile laughter.

                                                                       Step 5: I missed the last two steps, because...I left.


At one point in the sermon the Minister repeated the same Bible verse three times. Not for dramatic effect or emphasis, but solely because he forgot he had already read it. After each step he would say, "It's just like that verse - I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" but he'd say it as if he hadn't already said it five times before. He went off on tangents about not gossiping and how our cars are covered in the blood of the lamb. I deeply deeply dislike when people talk about being covered in the "blood of the lamb" because 1. it's disgusting and 2. not accurate. Jesus wanted us to drink his blood, not bathe in it. (Religion is creepy)

Everyone needs one of these. No plastic bottles!

Since we are all friends now, I will be honest and tell you that I brought wine in my brand new stainless steel mustard yellow Klean Kanteen. Don't judge! Jesus drank wine at religious gatherings! Just trying to walk in Jesus's footsteps. But sadly, not even wine could make this boring sermon interesting. I kept checking my phone. At 8:00 I was antsy. Four hours later at 8:06 I was planning my exit strategy since I was near the front of the silent room. At 8:16 I finished my last sip of wine. At 8:17 I was out the door.


This Wednesday was not my favorite.



I didn't expect it to be.







Nothing can beat being high on sugar and childhood and yarn bombing your grandmother.




I went home, finished the leftover wine and reflected on this Bible verse -


1 John 4:8 - Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.


Amen. I'll drink to that.









*Monday posts are damn near impossible these days. So, most blog posts will happen on Wednesday for a while. There are only seven Sundays left....holy crap. Only 7?!?!?! I'm not ready to be done!!!

What the ECK?: Exploring Eckankar

I've often thought of starting my own religion. Not because I have vast spiritual knowledge or possess great leadership skills, but just for fun. The Divine Order of Sarah? Sarahtology? Sarahism? Wine and Friends?  So many possibilities.

I can see it now...

We could gather on Friday nights. Instead of pews we would all sit in vintage clawfoot bathtubs filled with warm lavender bubbles and take the holy sacrament of wine and rosemary chicken. We would prepare ourselves for spiritual enlightenment by chanting the word "POOP". Then we would sing the designated Broadway show tunes for the day - with gusto and in harmony. After brief contemplative passages from various religious materials/books/films/music were shared we could have quiet bathtub meditations while Native American flutes play in the background. To close we would all put on plush white robes and sit around painting our nails, doing facials, eating ice cream and talking about feelings. All people with a kind heart and an open mind would be welcome. Membership in the religion would be dependant upon your ability to tell a good joke or pull a really great prank - like trick or treating. Children wouldn't be allowed, because children are horrible.


How would I make this happen? What does one do when they want to start a new religion? Go abroad? Be fairly weird? Hang with other established religious peeps? Write a series of books? That's basically what Paul Twitchell did in 1965 when he founded Eckankar: The Religion of Light and Sound.

What? You've never heard of Eckankar? That's strange, because they have centers EVERYWHERE. There are five in the state of Missouri. Virginia you have four. Washington, DC you're covered. My family in Austria you've got some. Germany - check. Nigeria, India, Tennessee, Toronto - there are ECK centers EVERYWHERE.

The symbol of the Ekankar faith - so 60's right?

When I was searching for an interesting non-Christian church to attend on Sunday I encountered several roadblocks. Zoroastrians don't have formal meeting times. Satanists won't let me come without signing a $200 membership contract. Sikh's were meeting too freaking early (8:00 am). It was then I stumbled upon Eckankar and was immediately fascinated. I saw "new religion" "cult" "soul travel" and a 10:00 meeting time and I was sold.

Kon and Rebecca lookin' fierce at the grocery store.

I was enjoying some weekend birthday fun with my gal pals who live in KCMO. We gallivanted around town in the bizarre thrift shop outfits we created for each other and gorged ourselves on Thai food, laughter, everclear apple cider, friendship and fists full of Lacey's mouthwatering homemade carrot cake. Then on Sunday morning with chai tea lattes and pumpkin bread in hand Lacey, Rebecca and I headed out to learn more about Eckankar.

Lacey picked the ugliest outfit for me. I took it in stride.   

In a tiny little strip mall on Main Street in Kansas City, MO we found the small meeting center. We opened the heavy metal door without hesitation and were immediately greeted by a lady quietly opening another door into a windowless beige room where a dozen people sat in navy blue office chairs listening to a man in a gray suit talk. There is almost no room decoration except the large gold letters on the wall that say "EK" and a picture wall of the various EckMasters. We took our seats at the front of the room and settled in for the experience.

 

The vibrations from Janis Joplin illuminated the blue light of God's gifts of expensive car maintenance and deepened her commitment to not eating hydrogenated oils.

Did that sentence make sense to you? Then you will love Eckankar. Eckankar is clearly the right path to take on your spiritual journey. If that sentence seemed like complete and utter nonsense to you then I would say you and I should probably go get a drink some time.

The service was...in a word....strange. We spent about five minutes quietly singing the word "HU" (pronounced "hue") over and over. As the group started singing "hue" I'll admit it was difficult to hold back my laughter. I knew if I looked at Rebecca or Lacey I would burst into an uncontrollable bout of giggles. Instead, I closed my eyes, pursed my lips and sang my HU. The vibrations ringing through my chest were peaceful and calming. This was my favorite part of the service. Rebecca and Lacey sat in silence trying to stifle their laughter.

Apparently the vibrations did Rebecca in, because shortly after our HUing ended Rebecca developed a terrible migraine and had to leave the building missing out on all the insanity that followed.

After our HU Song, which is supposed to be our love song to God, we watched a video lesson from the Spiritual Leader of Eckankar - Sri Harold Kemp. Kemp is an odd duck with his slow strange speech patterns and creepy molester glasses. In some ways he reminded me of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons with subtle hints of Truman Capote as well as Philip Seymour Hoffman in The Master. He records all kinds of video lectures from the Eckankar World Headquarters in Minnesota which are then played during worship services in centers across the nation. Take a minute to watch one of his videos and you'll understand why he kind of freaked me out. Sri Harold Kemp

His video this Sunday was about....The dangers of hydrogenated oil? Helping people? Creepy children? Planes of existence? Getting herbs? God is a blue light? Spiritual gifts? God being God? I have no idea. I couldn't follow anything he said. It was the most globidiglooky sermon I've ever heard - and that's saying something. He kept repeating the phrase "If God is God then who am I?" but he never actually answered the question. I don't really understand the question. He talked about how Eckankar is on a higher astroplane than Christianity or other "emotional" based religions.

We then broke into two discussion groups. The room was roughly the size of my cramped college dorm room - so trying to have two separate group conversations was almost impossible. Almost. Despite all the noise in the room the discussion groups illuminated some very interesting Eckankar beliefs. We discussed Spiritual Gifts. Lacey and I opted not to share, but instead just listened and took in all that was around us...

One woman talked about traveling to the temple, the Eckankar headquarters in Minnesota. Each October Eckankar celebrates it's new year with a massive gathering at the temple. She and her family piled in the car and just before reaching their destination had serious car trouble resulting in expenses the family was unable to pay and having to leave the car in Minnesota. She viewed this as a spiritual gift. She explained that getting to hear Kemp speak was truly a gift and her car expenses were just the price she had to pay. To me, it sounded like something REALLY didn't want her to attend the seminar.

The leader of our discussion group was a jovial lady clad in leopard print. She also went to the temple in October. She explained that the temple in Minnesota touches a part of Heaven and is filled with healing vibrations. She talked about a blue light that she saw once and how it took her time to realize that it was the Holy Spirit (ECK) and that she wasn't crazy because lots of other people saw it too and they couldn't possibly all be crazy. Well...if you've ever been to Baptist Bible Camp you know first hand that religious craziness is indeed quite infectious.

There were a few more words said and then service was over. It only lasted an hour which is the perfect amount of time for any service in my opinion  - bizarre or otherwise. Lacey and I collected our belongings and I tried to snap a few pictures - though onlookers clearly were displeased with this action. We were asked to come back and invited to stay for snacks, but declined and made our way back to the car and to our sick friend Rebecca.

Lacey and I didn't know how to explain what happened after Rebecca left the service. "It was pretty weird" was all we could come up with. We didn't really discuss it much after that.

My experience with the Eckists reminded me a lot of my time with the Scientologists. So, I didn't find it surprising that Twitchell was heavily involved with Scientology before founding Eckankar. There were several similarities - watching messages on a TV screen, strong hierarchy rules, a reputation for being a cult, dismissal of non-believers, the need to buy books/materials/study guides to achieve spiritual enlightenment, etc.

I have to admit I find Eckankar fascinating and I spent the past few days Internet stalking the faith. This is what I've learned.

 

Things that May or May Not Be True About Eckankar Based on Internet Readings:

1. Soul Travel - Um. This is kind of confusing since I don't really understand science. But soul travel is the idea that one's soul can travel through space and time accessing different planes. Eckists believe this is not only possible but is an important process for spiritual growth and closeness with God. Their website details exercises souls can do to increase their travel chances. Soul Travel Tips

 

2. Controversy - I came across many websites of former Eckankar followers who described the religion as a hoax or cult. Posts were anonymous and stressed that they were hiding their identity due to fear of harassment from the religion. Though I didn't find anything super scandalous - just mostly that the religious leaders of Eckankar are full of shit and maybe the religion isn't all it's built up to be. Shocking!

 

3. Social issues - Eckankar doesn't take a stance on social issues but encourages believers to make up their own minds. I dig this.

 

4. Initiations - Eckankar is kind of like the boyscouts - you have to earn your spiritual badges to advance in the religion. They have a series of initiations for when members achieve a new "level" after many years of study. From what I've read these initiations are at the discretion of the higher ups. Several Internet forums claim initiations are just a means of getting more money from members.  

 

 

 

Any religion that tries to sell me materials to get closer to God makes me suspicious. Especially when you have to buy materials from a so-called "expert" or "religious master". Eckankar has suspicious written all over it. It cost $5 just to buy a picture of Harold Kemp. $5?!?! Ludicrous! Ludicrous I say!

 

I think God is accessible without spending a dime or joining a group or paying monthly membership fees or journeying far to hear lectures. That's why God invented the Internet, right?

 

 

Anyone else know of any other obscure BUT SAFE religions I could visit? I'm hungry for more!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Barbara Fairchurch

You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of hillbillies and fried food but of conservative Christian values. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of country music, senior citizens and homosexual entertainers. That's the signpost up ahead - your next  stop.................Branson, MO.

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Don't tell me you haven't been to Branson, MO. Shoji Tabuchi? The Titanic Museum? Tony Orlando? Tanger Family Outlet Mall? Jim Stafford? Golden Corral?  Ride the Ducks? Go-carts? Souvenir shops with an eagle flying over an American flag t-shirts that say Branson, MO? Silver Dollar City?!?! Religious themed zoos??!?! DON'T TELL ME YOU HAVEN'T BEEN TO BRANSON MISSOURI?!?!

Branson, MO is located just between whimsy and insanity deep in the rhinestoned valley of traditional values where cowboy hats and high wasted nylon pants reign supreme. It also happens to be thirty minutes away from my hometown Springfield and a place I frequented as a child. It is indeed like wandering into the Twilight Zone. You aren't sure what's real. You aren't sure what's farce and what's meant to be taken seriously. You aren't sure what the fuck is happening, but you are most likely having an amazing time and gaining roughly ten pounds while you're at it. All teasing and joking aside, Branson, MO is truly a magical place.


So when I found myself in the parking lot of the Doug Gabriel Theatre for the Barbara Fairchild Sunday worship service I knew I was in for another magical Branson adventure.


My dear friends Adam and Lucas live in Branson. I've known Adam since third grade when we were in theatre together. We sang in the same High School choir. We traveled to Italy together. We share a mutual love for laughter, food and Broadway musicals. He was the first person who introduced me to Waiting for Guffman and Janelle Monae. He is also the first person who ever officially came out to me as a homosexual.


I am who I am today because Adam was brave enough to be himself. I know this sounds silly and over dramatic, but it's true. Adam is an amazing person. No one makes me laugh like Adam - he fills my heart with joy. The devil can't do that. Adam wasn't evil or wrong or a freak or sick or any of the other crap I heard in my church about the gays. Adam was another one of God's amazing creations. Thus began my love affair with the gays and the opening of my eyes past what the church told me was acceptable to see. All thanks to Adam.

After Adam came out my devout Sunday morning prayers were quickly replaced by Saturday night spins on the glitter-dusted dance floor of the local gay bar. If church was going to reject of the people I loved then I  would just reject church.


Now, here I am. Dancing it up on Saturday and then dragging my hungover ass to a different church (almost) every Sunday. Since Adam was a catalyst for my church rebellion it's only fitting that he joined me for a chapter of my church reunion.

Me and my dear friend Adam

Adam and his amazing boyfriend Lucas suggested we attend Barbara Fairchild's worship service at a theatre in Branson. Barbara is a Grammy nominated country music singer/songwriter. Some time ago she gave her heart to Jesus and has devoted her life to Him ever since. She and her husband Roy have a ministry based in Branson that travels around the country.

Elaborate crystal chandeliers. Pastel pant suits. Fancy bathrooms. Corny jokes. A sea of silver hair. Oh yeah, I'm in Branson.

"We're here today to honor my late wife" Roy said as he and his black pinstripe suit took the stage. "She's always 15 minutes late." he concluded.  Married men and women turned to each other and chuckled. We then listened to twenty minutes of jokes ranging from marital issues to old people texting. "Do you know what BTW means to a senior citizen? Bring the wheelchair!" We were the youngest people in the audience by at least thirty years.

That's Gigi, Lucas and Adam. My church buddies for the day.

After that the service got...well...weird. It was weird. I felt like I stepped into the bizzaro world.


The service was a lot like I imagine The Lawrence Welk show would have been. The congregation is more of an audience - never participating, just quietly watching and applauding when appropriate. Roy and Barbara tell jokes, poke fun at each other, share their personal stories, sing solos and duets and have special guests onto stage to talk or sing.

There were three guest stars at this week's service show.

1. Bo Rivers - who got his name from a cereal box and lives in a small town in Texas across from the flea market. Those were his words. Bo was the most precious thing I've ever seen in his jeans and suspenders and cowboy hat. He had a Texas flag on his guitar and sang the sweetest song called "Me and God". He was a delight. I wanted to put him in my pocket.

 

 

 

2. Diane - Diane was something else. Something special. Something amazing. Dressed in a baby pink embroidered cardigan and floor length jean skirt Diane lit up the room with her warmth and sweetness. Diane is a big believer in the power of the Lord. Diane quilts, despite many people telling her she couldn't. Diane is blind, but through the love of God she has been able to create 840 quilts to date and travels the country showing her work and speaking to people. Diane has been featured on various TV shows and the royal baby himself owns one of Diane's quilts. She would never take any credit for her ability she always returned the praise to God. Saying "It's not me. It's all Him". I struggle with sewing a straight line, so I was pretty impressed. Check out Diane, her story and her quilts at The Amazing Quilter


3. The final guest was a lady with a sad story to tell, but due to nerves and sadness and a stroke it was difficult to understand what she was talking about. Her story was long and disjointed. I won't say anything more about it.


Barbara is a very sweet woman who gives all of herself to her ministry. She does a lot of good in the community - helping women get back on their feet after the various life events that can knock one down. This particular service there wasn't a sermon. Barbara did talk a lot about her relationship with God - at one point breaking down in tears saying "Isn't amazing? The presence of the Lord." Barbara mentioned her struggle to "love as the Lord loves" and said she was praying that he would open her heart to that kind of love. I interpreted this "love" as "unconditional love".

Lucas told me about a night where Barbara and her husband Roy tried to "pray the gay out of him". Banishing his unclean thoughts with prayers and pleas to God. My jaw dropped when I heard this. "And you were okay coming back to church today?!?" I asked Lucas. He calmly replied "Yup. It's no big deal. I didn't really care. I think I had a date after or something. We're all friends now. They're good people." Lucas is amazing and very confident in who he is. Clearly, he's got a head start on the concept of "loving like God loves".

 

After the service we ate an delicious lunch at The Olive Garden.


Sidebar: My Nana, who took me to Branson at least once a month and loved Jesus more than anyone I've ever met was a frequenter of The Olive Garden. It was one of her favorite places to go. Eating that delicious unlimited salad made me feel close to her though she's been gone almost nine years.


Adam and I sat at the table talking about movies and past memories and eating and laughing and laughing and laughing. My jar hurt by the end of lunch. It was such a treat to share a leg of my journey with these wonderful people. I am so lucky to have so many wonderful people in my life.





I'm sorry this post was so late. It was my birthday on Monday. I'm now 31. And so far I'm loving every minute of it. At lunch Gigi asked me if this journey had brought me closer to God . She was filled with questions. I paused and thought about my answer before replying, "I've become closer to myself - which in many ways is like deepening your connection to God, because I believe God is not separate from us, but part of us."

Going to church didn't magically make me a Hindu or Buddhist or a Christian. I can't say any of my religious beliefs have altered dramatically - though some have evolved. Mostly, I just feel more comfortable in my own skin and more connected to the world around me. It's been amazing and I feel truly grateful to have had the opportunity to embark on such a journey. Though that doesn't mean I might not skip a couple more church services before it's all said and done.


I'm off to eat my weight in Halloween candy! Enjoy!

InstaGod

It's forever implanted in my brain and probably your brain too. The mystical all powerful sound of dial-up Internet.

RRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWKKKKKAAAAAAAAAAAHIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSS
MMMMEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWKKKKKKKKKKKKKSSSSSSHHHHSSSSS


The true power of the Internet alluded me at the tender age of thirteen which is when my family purchased our first ever land yacht, er, i mean, desktop computer. It weighed roughly 600 lbs. The giant cream colored monster sat just outside my bedroom on our upstairs landing giving me an easy entrance into a world of magic. See, when the Internet entered my life I wasn't thinking about access to information....I was thinking about access to BOYS.

Internet chatting is an awkward chubby frizzy-haired theatre obsessed girl's dream come true. In this land of only words I was a fucking goddess. Where else could a girl like me date the star quarterback of the local football team? I totally had Internet boyfriends and delighted in coming up with phrases that would make them fall deeper and deeper in love with me. Men (or people who were pretending to be men) would send me pictures and Internet flowers (remember those?) and e-cards. AOL chat rooms with various sexual themes were a favorite pastime for me and my best friends. We would gather around the computer screen and entice people to say dirty things to us so we could giggle endlessly. I remember once a man asked me, "Are you wet?" and I responded very seductively, "Oh, yeah, baby. I just got out of the shower." The innocence of my thirteen year old self warms my heart.

By fourteen I had traded in my Internet boyfriends for a real live boy. In-person relationships were much harder to manipulate and maintain but infinitely more satisfying. There are certain things you can't do online...like hold hands or make-out in the stairways before class. And holding hands and making out in stairways with your teenage love are such magical experiences!


(Why did I write all that about the internet? Will I reference that experience later in the blog? Will it all tie in somehow? Was there any reason at all for telling you that story? We'll see...)



Flash forward a few years to a much more confident nearly thirty-one year old cat lady in a frantic search for an air pump with a tire pressure gauge. That's where my Sunday began.


I am a mostly responsible adult. I am not however, a grown up. A mostly responsibly adult maintains a job, has decent credit, brushes teeth regularly, sees a doctor at least once a year and a dentist every four years and immediately airs up tires when the little symbol on her Honda Civic indicates the tire pressure is low. A GROWN UP sees a dentist for cleanings every six months, cares about stock exchange things, is always on time, has a savings account and owns a goddamn tire pressure gauge.


Once again I am not a grown up.


So dressed in the long skirt and headdress required to attend a Sikh temple I drove from gas station to gas station looking for an air pump with a pressure gauge cursing and screaming at my dumb mostly responsible self for not buying a four dollar gauge the last time this happened. The Sikh temple was about thirty-five minutes away from STL and I refused to drive on the highway with low tire pressure, it's not safe and mostly responsible adults care about safety. So, I was running late.

Finally I located the ONLY air pump in the entire city of St. Louis that has an ever so useful tire pressure gauge and aired up my tires. The whole experience made me rather irritable so I decided a chai tea latte was in order. The Sikh service lasted two hours and fifteen minutes and I was quite certain I wouldn't be able to make it through without Starbuck's assistance. So I traveled to the county and got in line at THE SLOWEST STARBUCKS ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH.

Most of the Starbucks I have visited over the years understand that when patrons enter their store they are usually in a hurry and caffeine deprived and thusly quickly whip out tall white cups of crack juice. Not in Ladue, MO though. With only fifteen minutes to drive thirty minutes away I was rather impatient. The lady took what felt like hours to write my name on the cup. Is she using a calligraphy pen? Is she embossing my name on that cup? I don't care what you write just FILL MY CUP WITH CHAI!!!!!!!  Of course I said none of this and just quietly stewed waiting out the three hours (ten minutes) it took to make my drink. There was no way I was going to make it to church this Sunday. Nope. Not going to happen.

So...I went to Target and bought a tire pressure gauge. Guess who's growing up?

I thought perhaps I'd find an evening service, but quickly the day got away from me as I was busy organizing/redecorating Rebecca's attic/craft room/bedroom. I didn't want to miss two church services in a row and I knew a weekday service would be hard to manage. I found myself thinking:

Man. I wish church could just come to me. Kinda like you call a cab. Can I just phone in a quick church service and have it delivered like pizza? Maybe even pick what kind of meaningful message I want for the day and enjoy it in my crappy clothes while drinking wine? WHY DOESN'T SUCH A THING EXIST??!?!?!?!



But of course. Silly me. It does. It's called.....THE INTERNETS.

Online church is great cause your cats can watch too!

Church online. It's the wave of the future. It's even better than church on TV. You can download previous services based on what kind of sermon you want to hear or interact with a live broadcast. You can sample from various religions - although most of the online services I came across were Christian. You can visit a church in Idaho or London with just the click of a button.

So, with my borrowed laptop in hand I set out to find an interesting online service to visit. This was not an easy task. Partly because online church services are ridiculously boring and also because I had an allergic reaction to a bug bite and my throat started to close up and my lips swelled and I broke into burning hot hives. So, I paused the service I was watching about the supremacy of Christ in a post-modern world to take some Benadryl and recover.

Check out my sweet hives. Ouch! (this is post Benadryl)

 

I then proceeded to delve into the world of online church services visiting the following places:

1. A YouTube video entitled "Jesus Christ is Great and Over Atheism" by Tim Keller - the most boring thing I've ever listened to/watched in my entire life
2. A podcast of an Episcopalian Church in Scotland - pretty standard church service with a different accent. www.kemnaykirk.org
3. A Shabbat service that was mostly just one guy talking about stuff and wasn't at all interesting - check out PunkTorah.
4. A live broadcast from a church in New Jersey called Liquid Church (standard contemporary Christian worship stuff) there I got to interact with people via a live chat where we said exciting insightful things like "hi" and "where are you from?"


Many Christian churches now have a live webcast or recorded sermons for your viewing pleasure. With the help of modern technology you can experience the magic of hipsters playing guitars and singing corny praise music anywhere you go. No need to dress up. No need to leave your house. No need to talk with other people. Hell, just grab your smart phone, click the link and you can poop while praising the Lord.

Convenient, eh?

I spent nearly two hours visiting churches online and the whole experience left me....underwhelmed.

We no yike you Internet church.

 

Sure, I enjoyed viewing services while hanging out in my grubby clothes chilling in bed with the cutest but loudest two year old on the planet along with a bottle of wine and six cats. That was lovely. It was cool to be able to "experience" services in places I either have no desire to go to (New Jersey) or am unable to go to (Scotland). I could see how this could be a great resource for parents with loud children who cannot sit still during a church service under any circumstances (Margot Carroll) or people who are unable to leave their homes due to illness or mobility.

 

It's just....I didn't get a whole lot out of it. It was about as fulfilling as an Internet boyfriend. So much of church is the people and the noise and the nuisances and the interruptions and the mood in the room and the feeling you get when there are enough people in the congregation who can harmonize beautifully to Amazing Grace and the applause or the silence and the handshake or (ahhh!) hug from a stranger. These things cannot be replicated on the Internet and church just isn't the same without them. You can't snuggle an Internet boyfriend just like you can't shake the hand of your live broadcast chat friends.

 

Plus, I enjoy and prefer having religious experiences outside of my home. Just like I prefer to work-out at a gym and see movies in a movie theatre. There's something special about leaving your regular day-to-day life where you manage all kinds of things and going some place special where you focus all your attention on just one thing. The gym is where I go to focus on fitness (and socialize). The movie theatre is where I go to focus on films (and socialize). Lately, church is where I go to have time with and reflect on God (and socialize). Though, I firmly believe you don't need to attend church to have a relationship with the spiritual. A connection with the spiritual can be established anytime and anywhere. But, these past months I've come to really appreciate having a special place and time reserved for spiritual reflection. This week I think I would have done better sitting under a tree in the park rather than "attending" online services. But, you live and you learn and you buy a tire pressure gauge.

 

 

 

We'll see what next week brings...