One Sunday morning I decided to visit one of our local churches. There are not many churches close to my farm in Witter Springs so I searched the yellow pages. I was pleased to count 59 Houses of God. On the other hand, I could see that wickedness in Lake County was losing. True, there were a dozen or so liquor stores, but that same phone book held no listing whatever for taverns, tap houses, bars and such places. It buoyed up my spirit and gave me a great sense of satisfaction to know that the folks in Lake County are so religious and devout and we have sin on the run.
The church I went to was in Upper Lake. It sat on Main Street. From the outside one would not suspect the members had rented 2 or 3,000 square feet of space. The front area was a room with a 20-foot high ceiling. There was a 10-foot screen at the front over the 1-foot-high stage. The preacher’s lectern stood in front.
The service began with a rush of two dozen folks to the back corner of the room.
I asked one of the few people still in their seats, “Why is has a crowd gathered in the corner of the room?”
He told me, “They are praying for someone.”
What they were praying for I never learned. I can only suppose they were praying for healing… or maybe somebody was in the clutches of demon rum and they were laying the devil low and rescuing that poor soul.
The prayer fest soon ended and the main part of the show began. I soon discovered why the stage was loaded with music equipment. A seven piece band, with two vocalists, readied themselves and words flashed across the 10-foot screen at the front of the hall. The music began. Some talented local composer, probably a band member, had written some gospel songs. The words printed large on the screen so we could all sing along. I sang with the rest of the flock; not too loud because I don’t sound very good when I try to sing.
I suspected some, or all, of the songs were a local effort, one line made a charge that the Creator might be less than omniscient. I say that because that line said; “He (God) deserves all honor. He deserves more than he knows…” Well, I reasoned, if our Creator doesn’t know how much honor he does or does not deserve, then maybe he isn’t all knowing and omniscient after all. I’m sure that’s not true. The composer made an innocent mistake and I am only nit-picking at the talent because I couldn’t do as well.
After 12 or 15 songs, each with many verses, and about an hour of music, the preacher said his piece. He spoke for another hour. By then my seat was getting hard and I was grateful when the service ended. The rest of the service, during the sermon, the words on the 10-foot screen was replaced with a painting of a pretty-boy Caucasian Hollywood movie star Jesus. He completed the picture of a caring deity by holding a baby lamb at his breast.
The preacher gave a good sermon. He concentrated on how old folks (like me, I suppose because he looked at me a long time) set the example for the young people. If they had to keep Jesus watching us from the screen and looking at me all the time, I would have been happier if he was browner and looked a little more like the Hebrews of the first century.
One other big thing was in their favor; When it came time for the collection, instead of sticking the collection basket under your nose and in plain sight of all your neighbors so they can see how tight you are, this fine church kept their collection box at the side of the room. People came up to the collection box and gave what they could in privacy. So did I.
I liked that church. Three people said hello to me. And I would bet the bank that the preacher and the people were absolutely sincere in their beliefs; good folks all. I would have liked it more if the songs didn’t all sound the same and did not take over half the service.
I won’t go back there. It’s not because they do not preach a good sermon. It is only because if I ever had reason to express my views, some folks might think I was a sinner past redemption.
Gene Paleno is an author and illustrator living in Witter Springs.
