#5 Family Worship Center

This week we went to Family Worship Center. http://www.fwcdc.com/index.htm The website shows everyone with arms linked around each other and advertises their "passionate worship." I'm not gonna lie, this type of thing does me in - people being emotional and passionate with people they don't know. They don't merely invade your personal space, they rob you of it. Are you ever standing there talking to someone, and as you talk they move closer and closer? Every time they move forward you have to move back a little and you wonder if you stayed put, how soon would you guys be Eskimo kissing? Yeah welcome to Sally's biggest concern when it comes to dealing with fellow Homo sapiens. I'm not a scrooge, but I'm NOT a touchy person. If some guy with a greasy mustache who carried a spike ball on a chain and wore a name tag that read "Hello, I am part of the Springfield Mafia" waltzed by I'd most likely nod, say hey, and never think about it again. Let's say one of those people that touches your arm with every other word comes along next, hello nervous breakdown!

Never judge a book by its cover. Does that go for church websites as well? We never had to fend off any touchy feelys, though I was prepared to. I intended to wear my super high heels; they give me confidence and a don’t-mess-with-me inner vibe. However, unless you find beanpoles particularly intimidating, it doesn't have much of an effect. I decided against them, because in flats I can kick anyone who gets too close considerably hard. Rachel turned out to have these same concerns, though maybe not to my pathetic extent of a condition, which would entitle medical help in certain situations. We realized the reason we wanted to go to this one was because of the possibility of the excitement it held, and just how interesting and different it seemed. We wouldn't be disappointed.

My friend Rebecca joined us this week; she followed us there in her own car. We all made it without difficulty to the originally destined church on the first try! Score! The building was a warehouse, which was unique. It made me crave Costco pizza. The two short, blond haired, blue eyed R names and I went in. It was bright outside, and we walked in and blinked and squinted in that attractive way humans do. I don't know about Rachel and Rebecca, but the first thing I focused in on was thirty floating people. The stage was nice, but above it there was an odd balcony that resembled a cage. The choir was up there stepping left and right, left and right, and singing. They stayed up there for the whole worship, always stepping left and right in sync. I may just read too much Stephen King, but my mind was immediately giddy with stories. What an awful nightmare, being ever suspended in front of a hundred people, stepping side to side, smiling, clapping, having no control. How often did food get thrown up there to them? Do they all coordinate all the time? They were all in green and black. If a bus full of people crashed on Saint Patrick’s Day in a cartoon this is what it would look like as they all rose up heaven bound. Smiling, swaying, and scary.

We were taken to our seats which were thankfully not in the front. Distracting as the floating people were, the music was excellent. They were mainstream Christian radio songs, but the band was incredible. This place was obviously designed for its music, hence the title "Worship Center" I guess. The lighting and sound system was very elaborate, and the congregation was VERY into it. When a slow song started I expected lighters and cell phones to come out and be waved. In between songs the intensity of the people cheering resembled something right off one of my "Iron Maiden Live" CDs. The worship leader woman was a maniac, clearly no one makes HER take about a 100 ADHD pills a day. But I'm not jealous, because her energy didn't seem real. It was too happy happy wind up. As Rachel said, you got to wonder what she (and the rest of them) are like during the week. Because this presentation wasn't real. It was just that - a presentation. Rachel also pointed out that this place had rituals, the people seemed brainwashed, and they thought they were the best. They were just like Burke United Methodist, but on drugs, and possibly escapees from an insane asylum. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The music went on for an hour. The technical end of it was impressive, like I said, but the overall experience was not. Leader Woman was getting more wound up with every song and I suspected a tranquilizer would be needed soon. She asked everyone to raise their hands up, to shout amen. "I don't raise," Rebecca muttered. Leader Woman invited us all to take a moment and invite God into the room. At most churches, this has seemed to involve bowing your head and praying, asking God to open you heart and receive his teachings, etc. Here everybody started loudly talking to God. The mix of everyone’s individual summonings blended into a loud murmur, and the three of us stood there awkwardly. Talk about intimidating.

The pastor came up and talked for half an hour. It was only after he talked, another song was played, and then he came back that we realized that hadn't been the sermon; that had been the request for offering. He told us how God has a plan but he can't fulfill it without our help, that God can't steer a parked car. That we are like water - we take the path of least resistance, but God wants us to be like bulldozers. All of this concluded to "give us money."

Rachel and I looked at each other in wonder when it had been nearly 2 hours and the actual message was only just beginning. We had both already had enough. Rebecca was lucky she had to leave for work. The pastor was not pleasant. He came across as manipulative to me. He used only one Bible verse the entire time, and kept stating things that would make Rachel whisper, "Where does the Bible say that?" I use descriptions like "say" and "said" but in reality he yelled. The whole time. I don't know about you, but I find it difficult to think and let things reach my heart when someone who looks like Bill Clinton is shrieking at me. He had a thing for making high pitched noises whenever possible. It was the kind of thing that was supposed to be funny, I think. High pitched impersonations and squeals. One time he bellowed, "His name has slipped my mind but that’s only because I'm an idiot." This was the only thing I agreed with all morning. I didn't like how he shouted, "As Christians we are an army! I say we swoop in and grab ‘em!"

The terrible thing was the congregation encouraged all this. When he first began to speak, people would shout, "amen," "halleluiah," and "preach it" with every sentence he said. I thought that there was no way they could keep it up the whole time, but oh they did. It was so distracting; I don't know how anyone can like the sound of their own voice that much. There is no way they had time to process what he said before shouting their amens. At one point he stuck his hands on his lower stomach and said that was his witness in there, Jesus lived inside him. Why Jesus’ dwelling spot was the lower stomach I am still unable to figure out. Clinton began to rock back and forth gripping there and singing, "I got a witness inside of me," and almost everyone did the same.

The sermon’s theme was "Cooperation with God." He said we have to quit the "stinkin thinkin" and that we must humble ourselves or we will be humiliated and separated from God. He said that God wants his hand inside our life, meaning he wants us to be his puppet. When God is controlling us like a puppet, that's what it means to be in cooperation with God. Can you imagine Socrates rolling over in his grave? I agree with none of this. We are different from animals and all other creatures because we are created in God's image, and he wants us to follow him, to let go and say God guide me mold me, not God control me.

The control freak was this pastor. Don't be deceived by his smiling, realtor ad worthy picture in the program. Throughout his sermon he would walk around the audience, stopping and staring at people, touching them. He jumped up on a chair at one point, shouting at the church to agree. As if the constant amens weren’t enough. Every time he'd stride toward our general area Rachel and I would tense up. He was just so unnerving. He had no notes or anything; he just strode around repeating the same stuff. There was no flow to his talk, no points he would make clear. We could have set a raving drunk lose and got much the same affect. Ranting and rambling. Rachel wrote down these actual words right out of Clintons trap: "If they're not in cooperation with me then Jesus will get rid of them." What? He then claimed that Elvis would still be alive today if he had stayed in cooperation with God. This was when we decided to leave. We wanted to stay for the experience, but it became evident that this was pretty much it. He was just repeating the same stuff again and again. Anyway, I was hungry and would have stabbed him with my pen without hesitation had he come close enough. Terrified, we slunk out of there and back into the bright outside, both sighing with relief then laughing at ourselves and our joy at finally being freed.

During worship a man had come up and said something to Rachel, and she left for a few minutes. When I looked questioningly at Rebecca, she just shrugged. I found out later that the man had asked Rachel to move her car. He told her she was in the pastor’s spot, and had her move exactly one space over to the right. Why couldn't the pastor park one spot over instead? How did they even know she was the owner of that car? I don't know, I don't understand. There was a lot about this place I don't understand.

I was just talking to Rachel a few minutes ago; she was inquiring about the progress of this entry. I told her I was having a difficult time with it, and I didn't know what was wrong with me. Her immediate response was, "Did you drink coffee?" To which I replied, "Not enough never enough." She then said, "Hmm...maybe cuz this place was just...weird." I think that sums it up. It was so bizarre; I want to simply tell you all, "It was strange, I can't describe it." But then why am I writing this in the first place if I can’t? But I feel like Rachel's description does a better job then any of my long reckonings. "This place was just...weird." Amen.