Church

Ok, background: I go to church.

So anyway, I went to church Sunday and I was determined to pay attention to the sermon this week. I have a bad habit of drawing when I should be listening. But then someone to my left or my right starts acting like it is totally inappropriate for me to be drawing in church, especially if I'm going to be drawing pictures like that! So I usually wind up scribbling over my "artistic renderings" and then just drawing lines through the words in the church bulletin.

But this Sunday I wanted to listen. And I heard a lot.

The sermon this week was on stealing people's light. For those of you geeks out there who already want to challenge the possibility that light can be stolen, or even owned, let me set you straight. Light cannot be stolen. It can, however, be owned. I own it all. If anyone you know claims to own some light, then they are borrowing it from me and I probably have a receipt.

This sermon is what we call a metaphore. The minister was not actually talking about stealing people's light, but about stealing people's enthusiasm. The example the minister gave was that she was in line at the grocery last week and the cashier was being cute and bubbly to everyone she saw. Then she got to one man and she asked him, "Did you have a great holiday?" And the man returned with a grimace, "I don't do holidays." Anyway, that burst the happy girl's bubble and, according to the minister, you could see her enthusiam disappear.

I was actually starting to really get into this idea. This would be a really cool sermon. I can't stand those joy-kills. I hate people who want to crap on your good time just because their life is miserable and hopeless.

Then something odd happened. The minister said, "Don't you just hate that?" And I said out loud, "Yeah," but in a much deeper voice than my own.

I looked around. Did I say that out loud? I got really still.

The minister continued... "I mean, this girl was just trying to spread some joy and he shot her down, and for no reason."

"A-men," I said again.

I sank in my chair. I was pretty certain I hadn't moved my lips.

"Because," she continued, "Joy begets joy..."
--"Yeah."
"And anger begets anger."
--"Uh-huh."
"And... and... when you shoot someone down like that, someone who is trying to spread the light,"
--"Yeah."
"....then.... then you are part of..."
--"Uh-huh."
"the darkness."
--"A-men."

By this point I realized that I was not the one making the noise. It was some guy in the back of the church.

MORE BACKGROUND: Our church does not do the evangelical "yeahs" and "amens" and whatnot.

This guy had no problem with being led by the spirit to accent the sermon with his own affirmations of the holy Yeah. And his vocalizations were growing bolder and more frequent. Here I was, trying to enjoy a great sermon on letting other people shine their light, and not kill their joy, and this dick was enthusiasming all over it.

And I wasn't the only one who felt that way. Asses were shuffling in their seats. People who normally had no problem sleeping through church were restless. The temperature rose. Even the minister was flustered.

Normally our minister is a very controlled speaker. She knows when to pause and for how long. Actually, she has a tendency to drag on. But this week she was far from collected. The more Mr. Joy uttered his utterances the faster she began to speak. Places where even the most inexperienced speaker might naturally pause, she blew on through. But Mr. Joy kept the pace.

King Herod
Yeah
was a source of darkness
A-men
so
Yeah
obsessed with his
Uh-huh
own power
Yeah
that he couldn't
Yeah
see the good
A-men
that this wonderful baby
That's Right
was going to bring
Yeah
to this world
Yeah

...Andsohetoldthewisemenwhowerefullofjoytolethimknowwherethebaby
Jesuswassothathecouldhavehimkilledsothathecouldstayinthedarkand
notallowIsrealintothelight
Yeah.

I could see the pain in the minister's eyes. She was flustered. By the end of the sermon this guy was saying Yeah and A-men to just about every sentence, no matter what the minister was saying. I was hoping she would throw something in there just to see if he was listen.

And the good baby Jesus
Yeah
Came to save the fallen world
A-men
And
Yeah
Satan is good.
Yeah... wait... no.
Ha! I got you!
Awe, dammit.


That sermon finished in record time. Even though we had communion we were still out by noon. Not that I keep track of that sort of thing.