I attended a small Baptist church this past Sunday. The singing wasn't particularly in-tune, or lively, or good, but that didn't matter to the congregation. The elderly woman beside me was moved to tears on three separate occasions, and each time, she exclaimed to the heavens (or, more accurately, the ceiling), "Yes, Jesus! I believe in you, Jesus! Yes!"
I often poke fun at fundamentalist Christians. I'm not proud of this fact, and I don't really enjoy being being a self-righteous jerk. It's just that, well, they can be so... precious. What with their silly rituals and out-dated beliefs and nonsensical approach to science, facts, and logic.
And yet, part of the reason I mock fundamentalist Christians so much is because, deep down, I'm actually quite jealous of them. I wish I believed in something, anything, the way they believe in Jesus. These people are totally committed to a 2,000 year old carpenter, regardless of what judgmental assholes like me think of them. And for some strange reason, that pisses me off.
All of this is to say that when I wander into a strange church for the very first time and sit next to a woman who is joyfully weeping at the very mention of Christ, I can't help but be moved to tears myself.
You're Not Alone
9 years ago
1 comment:
this was a humourous post, but I'd like to know why you go at all?
I'd also be interested to know what the rest of your experience was like there.
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