I’m a church goer, on occasion. I like the idea of going to church – wholesome, traditional, Little House on the Prairie feel to it “Going to Church”. I’ve visited a church twice – almost three times but on the first visit I was obviously under-dressed. This was the church I found myself in this morning. I grew up, kinda, going to church – Southern Baptist. I swore I’d never attend another Southern Baptist Church and this morning … quite to my own shock, there I was in a Southern Baptist Church. Men in their vested suits, even the little boys trolling around with their ties, vests, coats. Women in their modest dresses and skirts, looking every so lovely and being every so kind. Surreal almost. I felt as if I had stepped back in time.
The preacher’s sermon was needed – how Jesus has my back, for me to take heart, remain cheerful. It took about four hymns, five prayers, a roll call of the upcoming events, tithe, and a social greet and meet before he got to that point. Please! Just give me the point! Get to the point. I woke up, showered, coffee’d up, put on a skirt for crying out loud to sit through forty five minutes of singing, handshaking, small talk to get to the point of “Jesus has my back” (my version, not the preacher’s words).
Don’t get me wrong, I needed to know and hear that Jesus has my back. I’m sure He does but it just doesn’t feel like it most days. Mr. Preacher man made a point of that as well – life is hard, it sucks, it downright stinks (my words again) but take heart, Jesus is with us. I agree, I know but I don’t like it – I really don’t like it.
Life does suck and it doesn’t always feel heavenly – mainly because of the hum drum of life … Jesus has my back as I do the laundry I detest because my forty something husband is fine with me doing it and wearing dirty clothes. Yep, Jesus has my back. My thoughts did trail off to my Monday morning, corporate america job that I thoroughly enjoy just to have the reward of money magically appearing in my bank account on Friday to pay bills for stuff I could care less about.
Corporate job … does Jesus have my back there? I hope so, I definitely need it then more than laundry day. I need Jesus to have more than my back on Monday morning – He needs to have my mouth, my attitude, my eyeballs, all of me because if He doesn’t have my mouth – oh, how I’d love to go off on Mr. Moody Director who loves to show his attitude depending upon the audience. If Jesus doesn’t have my attitude – oh, I’d go black crazy in the middle of the meeting telling everybody their place while jerking my neck and throwing things. My eyeballs? Jesus needs to have those so I don’t roll them every time somebody says something and my inner me is screaming ‘seriously!?’. Yep, Jesus needs to have more than my back.
Church vs the local bar.
I understand why some people use their local bar as their church. I’m in with that crowd (not really, I don’t go to the local bar but now that I think about it…), only if it included God’s wisdom otherwise known as the bible. You are not judged in a bar – you are on the same field as everybody else. Everybody there knows you are hurting, life is hard, and they just are happy sitting sharing a drink with you while you vent, cry on their shoulder, or laugh about the simple madness of it all. Oh, you will get hit on, you will get lied to, you will get the bill sometimes – but you know it, you expect it. In church – you get hit on in a different way, you get lied to as well, and you get the bill subtly.
I wonder what Jesus thinks of our church? Would he come to the Southern Baptist Church I went to this morning? All dressed up? Vested suit? Shoes all spiffed and shined up? Or would He go to the local bar.
I think we both know the answer to that one.