Of Men and Twinkies
Well, I did not get up early to write today. It dawned on me yesterday that since today was Easter, the Easter Bunny might have left something exciting for my kids to notice when they first woke up. I didn't want to miss that. So I stayed home.
We went to a nearby megachurch for the third time this morning, and things started off well. Great music. Felt a moment during one of the songs. Then, a fire-and-brimstone-like preacher stood up with his gallon of milk (we expire, just like milk does, it turns out) and ruined it all. So I left there bummed out, more uncertain than ever about finding my way in the organized church. We are so quick to put God in a box, and, consequently, so many people in their own unacceptable boxes.
The preacher actually spent time talking about Twinkies. Leave a Twinkie in someone's coffin, and two hundred years later the person will be gone but the Twinkie wail still be there. Amazing. i wished I could have learned that in seminary. I would be much further along today.
The music had created such awe and wonder and reverence around theme of the resurrection. I felt a connection to the eternal life within me. Then, it was all about Twinkies, caskets and milk. I hope not too many people left my sermons of the first few years of this decade feeling as annoyed as I did today when I left the worship service before it was even over.
Next week we'll be off to find somewhere new, in search of critical thinking and hopefully having prepared our hearts to once again engage the mystery and awe of the living God.