Louisville Church Tour Part 1 of 8 - A Reading of God's Will
Northeast Christian Church
November 6, 2005
9:15 AM
You know, a lot of times when I’m watching South Park I wonder to myself, “How the hell do they make this shit up?” The answer is, they don’t. This morning I went to the Northeast Christian Church for Sunday Service and I had a pretty good time. It was part Rock Concert, part actor’s theater, and part motivational speaking - which was the only portion I was really expecting.
I haven’t been to church since I was a kid – St. John’s Lutheran in West Chicago, IL. I remember a choir singing and an organ playing, and I remember people sitting in rows of pews with the stained glass and alter and all of that. We did plays for Christmas and Easter, and we brought our envelopes of change to put in the collection plate. Your basic church set up. Well, a lot has changed in 25 years.
The church was really big, with more buildings than I had time to explore. The service was held in an auditorium, kinda like a place you would see a concert or play rather than a church service. It reminded me a lot of the Louisville Palace or Wiltern Theater in Los Angeles with the huge stage and balcony seating. On either side of the stage were great big windows that ran the length of the auditorium with mechanized drapes that could be opened and closed based on the mood of the moment. A team of folks worked the sound and lights and recording equipment. Seriously, I thought Ozzy would pop out at any time.
I sat in the front row of the balcony with my notebook and camera. I wasn’t sure if I would get hassled for shooting video and taking pictures, since they record and sell CDs and DVDs of every service, but nobody seemed to mind. The service started with, well, a frigging rock concert. Gibson Les Paul and Acoustic guitars – five-piece horn section – massive drum kit – huge Yamaha keyboard – and three singers.
Okay, so here’s where the South Park comes in. They totally rocked. The first song started out with a slow gospel feel but then quickly morphed into some 70s Disco Rock, which was cool enough. But it was the lyrics that killed. Oh, if only I wasn’t so totally captivated and mesmerized by they spectacle I might have started recording sooner and actually captured a whole chorus or verse, but what I can share is this, “Ain’t gonna let no rock out praise me. Ain’t gonna let it sing in my place.”
The basic premise of the song was that if we don’t get up and sing and make some sounds the rocks will call out to the lord, and, well, fuck that, I ain’t gonna let no rock out praise me. It was a serious get-up-and-move number. Right up there with Detroit Rock City by KISS. All through the song the lyrics were posted on two big screen TVs on the sides of the stage. Total karaoke action – which allowed everyone to sing along, and holy mother of god, I’ve never seen middle-aged white women rock so hard – many of them moved to tears.
Now, in addition to the rockin’ sound and the unbelievable lyrics, the folks in this band where straight outta the writer’s room at SNL – specifically the too lady backup singers. If you haven’t seen SNL in the late 80s or early 90s then you don’t know what I’m talking about, but these ladies just had the biggest smiles, patented 80s two-step swish, side-to-side dance move, and syrupy sweet voices – and they were giving it up for the lord. Jesus, why didn’t I get a close up? Again, I was in a daze. So fucking great.
After about three songs a young minister came out dressed casually in slacks and dress shirt with no tie. He welcomed everyone to Week Eight of Christian Boot Camp – the final week of a series of themed services designed to prepare the young and old members of the congregation for their mission as soldiers of the lord. Okay, it was then that I finally understood why all the ushers were wearing camouflage. Seriously…
Then we prayed and he asked for everyone to turn and greet their neighbor. I met Dan and his girl – oops, can’t remember her name. Then the minister asked for everyone to open their hearts, minds and wallets as the collection plates came around. However, he specifically said that they did not want any donations from visitor’s, just regular members. I had brought $2 with me, but nobody ever came by with a plate. Finally, the minister mentioned that volunteers were needed to do gift wrapping at the Summit, a local mall. This information was also displayed on both sides of the stage on the big screen TVs.
The neat thing about this transition between the concert and the theater to come was the music and the lighting and the sacrament. The drapes were closed, the lights were low and Michael McDonald from the Doobie Brothers tickled the keys to a light and lonesome tune. (Okay, it wasn’t really the gray-bearded doobie, but that’s who he reminded me of) I thought it was a little odd that while all of the members bowed their heads and prayed, that the light and sound guys went on with their cues and marks and flipping switches and stuff. Silent prayer just ain’t what it used to be.
So, all of the sudden a guy showed up carrying a big tray with a bowl full of tic-tac size bread in the middle of a zillion cups about the fourth of the size of a shot glass full of juice. I reached for a piece of bread and then tossed back a shot and put the empty back on the tray and said thanks. He gave me an odd, but warm smile and then handed the tray to the next person. Uh-oh, I guess I was supposed to take the tray, not be served like somebody eating horderves at a cocktail party. Oh well, I was feeling entertained and it certainly seemed like intermission at a show – so fuck it.
Pretty soon the lights flickered and act II was about to begin. A man walked onto the stage who I presumed was the preacher and he sat down in a chair next to a little coffee table and he started speaking. “Hmmm, wow, this is pretty progressive,” I thought. “He’s not even gonna stand in the pulpit or at a lectern or something?” Well, I soon figured out that he was performing a little skit. He was confused about whether or not to take a new job and move his family out of town. And he was hearing voices in his head. Voices that soon became talking heads poking from the curtain behind him.
“Boink,” went the sound effect and a head would appear and he would talk to it as he engaged in some self-talk. First a motherly figure, then a daughter-like girl, then a boss/real estate tycoon and finally a gypsy/numerologist. She was the best, telling him that he should sell his home, and it would sell on the 15th and it would sell for 15K above the asking price. I have to admit, I was slightly offended by this caricature because I consider myself part gypsy fortuneteller, and I have a lot of love for coincidental numerology. I mean, it doesn’t guide my life, but I have fun with it nonetheless.
Well, all of this was meant to provide an introduction to the theme of Day 8 of Christian Boot Camp – Knowing God’s Will for Your Life. The young minister Bart came back on stage and gave a pretty good sermon. He told a funny story, got into some specific themes from the Bible and then tied it all up with a personal story from his own life, before sharing tale from 9/11 about love, loss and god’s plan. He was passionate, likeable and made a lot of sense with only a few exceptions.
Basically, Minister Bart wanted everyone to understand that you can’t stay on your knees praying all the time waiting for God (they even showed a scene from Hoosier’s to illustrate this point). Ultimately God is waiting for you to make a move. He talked about the three types of will; providential; moral and personal. Providential will is god’s will. Simply put it means God is gonna do whatever God is gonna do. Personal will is about the choices you make based on the guidance of Providence and morality. And moral will has to do with God’s commands and this was the first item I took exception with.
The minister mentioned commands like not lying and not stealing and not fucking your neighbor, but then he tossed in “obeying the government.” What? I’m cool with the first couple commands, but the government is not God and obeying the government, especially out current government, does not seem like a command that we should always follow. Kinda bullshit if you ask me.
Again, overall, I really liked what he had to say. He even mentioned that although Heaven is going to be great, we should not forget to live this life for the sake of this life, not just as a ticket to heaven. Good for the sake of good. Take the path of righteousness for the sake of righteousness, not for fear of punishment or the promise of reward. Ah, a little bit of truth. I mean, we all know that there is no God, right? The concepts of Heaven and Hell were only created to motivate folks to do the right thing. If we had to rely on the character of every man, woman and child to do right for the sake of right, with no promise of heaven, the world would be in chaos. Jesus knew that.
Religion is the glue that has held society together for a LONG time. The fear of god is what keeps people in line. Just like a cop on the side of the road keeps people from speeding. However, the message of Minister Bart was one of transition. Moving away from the big lie to the cold reality of our fate to live this life on Earth and be done with it. We need to be kind and considerate and righteous not for the rewards in the afterlife, but in order to create heaven on Earth today – in this moment.
The time for truth is at hand. People are disillusioned and rebellious because they are finding out that Santa is but a dream and it was Mom and not the Easter Bunny who sprinkled all of that candy on the table. The truth really does hurt, however, it is the real path to paradise.
We should not lower our speed for fear of getting a ticket and paying a fine, we should lower our speed to keep others safe, and conserve fuel and make sure everyone gets home alive. The time is now to promote the idea of a finite existence for each individual that is framed by our own birth and death. There is no heaven or hell awaiting us upon our demise, but the fate of this leviathan – this super organism comprised of all men – that is what we control. Shall we doom this creature to an early death because our selfish individual commitments are in conflict with the potential beauty of our character? Can we serve the community and our self with balance and integrity? Our civilization can go on and prosper, but only if we are honest with the individual parts and we get them on the right path – again, for the sake of righteousness.
Enough lip service – especially from me, now, lol.
After the sermon it was back to music and a short message from an older guy who I assume was the main minister for this flock. When all was said and done I tried to find the young minister on the floor of the lobby in order to ask him about the government crap, but I didn’t see him. So I cruised out to the car and with the help of some uniformed police officers I was able to make my way back out onto Brownsboro road and head home.
All in all a good time. I give the Northeast Christian Church 4 our of 5 nails up. Good music, good message, and I left with a big smile on my face. When I got home I had the girls singing “Ain’t gonna let no rock out praise me.” And Olivia astutely pointed out that, “Dad, it sounds like you had a good time.” I started to say that it was funny, you know, like a joke, but I paused for a moment and said, “You know what? I did have a good time.” I really did.
November 6, 2005
9:15 AM
You know, a lot of times when I’m watching South Park I wonder to myself, “How the hell do they make this shit up?” The answer is, they don’t. This morning I went to the Northeast Christian Church for Sunday Service and I had a pretty good time. It was part Rock Concert, part actor’s theater, and part motivational speaking - which was the only portion I was really expecting.
I haven’t been to church since I was a kid – St. John’s Lutheran in West Chicago, IL. I remember a choir singing and an organ playing, and I remember people sitting in rows of pews with the stained glass and alter and all of that. We did plays for Christmas and Easter, and we brought our envelopes of change to put in the collection plate. Your basic church set up. Well, a lot has changed in 25 years.
The church was really big, with more buildings than I had time to explore. The service was held in an auditorium, kinda like a place you would see a concert or play rather than a church service. It reminded me a lot of the Louisville Palace or Wiltern Theater in Los Angeles with the huge stage and balcony seating. On either side of the stage were great big windows that ran the length of the auditorium with mechanized drapes that could be opened and closed based on the mood of the moment. A team of folks worked the sound and lights and recording equipment. Seriously, I thought Ozzy would pop out at any time.
I sat in the front row of the balcony with my notebook and camera. I wasn’t sure if I would get hassled for shooting video and taking pictures, since they record and sell CDs and DVDs of every service, but nobody seemed to mind. The service started with, well, a frigging rock concert. Gibson Les Paul and Acoustic guitars – five-piece horn section – massive drum kit – huge Yamaha keyboard – and three singers.
Okay, so here’s where the South Park comes in. They totally rocked. The first song started out with a slow gospel feel but then quickly morphed into some 70s Disco Rock, which was cool enough. But it was the lyrics that killed. Oh, if only I wasn’t so totally captivated and mesmerized by they spectacle I might have started recording sooner and actually captured a whole chorus or verse, but what I can share is this, “Ain’t gonna let no rock out praise me. Ain’t gonna let it sing in my place.”
The basic premise of the song was that if we don’t get up and sing and make some sounds the rocks will call out to the lord, and, well, fuck that, I ain’t gonna let no rock out praise me. It was a serious get-up-and-move number. Right up there with Detroit Rock City by KISS. All through the song the lyrics were posted on two big screen TVs on the sides of the stage. Total karaoke action – which allowed everyone to sing along, and holy mother of god, I’ve never seen middle-aged white women rock so hard – many of them moved to tears.
Now, in addition to the rockin’ sound and the unbelievable lyrics, the folks in this band where straight outta the writer’s room at SNL – specifically the too lady backup singers. If you haven’t seen SNL in the late 80s or early 90s then you don’t know what I’m talking about, but these ladies just had the biggest smiles, patented 80s two-step swish, side-to-side dance move, and syrupy sweet voices – and they were giving it up for the lord. Jesus, why didn’t I get a close up? Again, I was in a daze. So fucking great.
After about three songs a young minister came out dressed casually in slacks and dress shirt with no tie. He welcomed everyone to Week Eight of Christian Boot Camp – the final week of a series of themed services designed to prepare the young and old members of the congregation for their mission as soldiers of the lord. Okay, it was then that I finally understood why all the ushers were wearing camouflage. Seriously…
Then we prayed and he asked for everyone to turn and greet their neighbor. I met Dan and his girl – oops, can’t remember her name. Then the minister asked for everyone to open their hearts, minds and wallets as the collection plates came around. However, he specifically said that they did not want any donations from visitor’s, just regular members. I had brought $2 with me, but nobody ever came by with a plate. Finally, the minister mentioned that volunteers were needed to do gift wrapping at the Summit, a local mall. This information was also displayed on both sides of the stage on the big screen TVs.
The neat thing about this transition between the concert and the theater to come was the music and the lighting and the sacrament. The drapes were closed, the lights were low and Michael McDonald from the Doobie Brothers tickled the keys to a light and lonesome tune. (Okay, it wasn’t really the gray-bearded doobie, but that’s who he reminded me of) I thought it was a little odd that while all of the members bowed their heads and prayed, that the light and sound guys went on with their cues and marks and flipping switches and stuff. Silent prayer just ain’t what it used to be.
So, all of the sudden a guy showed up carrying a big tray with a bowl full of tic-tac size bread in the middle of a zillion cups about the fourth of the size of a shot glass full of juice. I reached for a piece of bread and then tossed back a shot and put the empty back on the tray and said thanks. He gave me an odd, but warm smile and then handed the tray to the next person. Uh-oh, I guess I was supposed to take the tray, not be served like somebody eating horderves at a cocktail party. Oh well, I was feeling entertained and it certainly seemed like intermission at a show – so fuck it.
Pretty soon the lights flickered and act II was about to begin. A man walked onto the stage who I presumed was the preacher and he sat down in a chair next to a little coffee table and he started speaking. “Hmmm, wow, this is pretty progressive,” I thought. “He’s not even gonna stand in the pulpit or at a lectern or something?” Well, I soon figured out that he was performing a little skit. He was confused about whether or not to take a new job and move his family out of town. And he was hearing voices in his head. Voices that soon became talking heads poking from the curtain behind him.
“Boink,” went the sound effect and a head would appear and he would talk to it as he engaged in some self-talk. First a motherly figure, then a daughter-like girl, then a boss/real estate tycoon and finally a gypsy/numerologist. She was the best, telling him that he should sell his home, and it would sell on the 15th and it would sell for 15K above the asking price. I have to admit, I was slightly offended by this caricature because I consider myself part gypsy fortuneteller, and I have a lot of love for coincidental numerology. I mean, it doesn’t guide my life, but I have fun with it nonetheless.
Well, all of this was meant to provide an introduction to the theme of Day 8 of Christian Boot Camp – Knowing God’s Will for Your Life. The young minister Bart came back on stage and gave a pretty good sermon. He told a funny story, got into some specific themes from the Bible and then tied it all up with a personal story from his own life, before sharing tale from 9/11 about love, loss and god’s plan. He was passionate, likeable and made a lot of sense with only a few exceptions.
Basically, Minister Bart wanted everyone to understand that you can’t stay on your knees praying all the time waiting for God (they even showed a scene from Hoosier’s to illustrate this point). Ultimately God is waiting for you to make a move. He talked about the three types of will; providential; moral and personal. Providential will is god’s will. Simply put it means God is gonna do whatever God is gonna do. Personal will is about the choices you make based on the guidance of Providence and morality. And moral will has to do with God’s commands and this was the first item I took exception with.
The minister mentioned commands like not lying and not stealing and not fucking your neighbor, but then he tossed in “obeying the government.” What? I’m cool with the first couple commands, but the government is not God and obeying the government, especially out current government, does not seem like a command that we should always follow. Kinda bullshit if you ask me.
Again, overall, I really liked what he had to say. He even mentioned that although Heaven is going to be great, we should not forget to live this life for the sake of this life, not just as a ticket to heaven. Good for the sake of good. Take the path of righteousness for the sake of righteousness, not for fear of punishment or the promise of reward. Ah, a little bit of truth. I mean, we all know that there is no God, right? The concepts of Heaven and Hell were only created to motivate folks to do the right thing. If we had to rely on the character of every man, woman and child to do right for the sake of right, with no promise of heaven, the world would be in chaos. Jesus knew that.
Religion is the glue that has held society together for a LONG time. The fear of god is what keeps people in line. Just like a cop on the side of the road keeps people from speeding. However, the message of Minister Bart was one of transition. Moving away from the big lie to the cold reality of our fate to live this life on Earth and be done with it. We need to be kind and considerate and righteous not for the rewards in the afterlife, but in order to create heaven on Earth today – in this moment.
The time for truth is at hand. People are disillusioned and rebellious because they are finding out that Santa is but a dream and it was Mom and not the Easter Bunny who sprinkled all of that candy on the table. The truth really does hurt, however, it is the real path to paradise.
We should not lower our speed for fear of getting a ticket and paying a fine, we should lower our speed to keep others safe, and conserve fuel and make sure everyone gets home alive. The time is now to promote the idea of a finite existence for each individual that is framed by our own birth and death. There is no heaven or hell awaiting us upon our demise, but the fate of this leviathan – this super organism comprised of all men – that is what we control. Shall we doom this creature to an early death because our selfish individual commitments are in conflict with the potential beauty of our character? Can we serve the community and our self with balance and integrity? Our civilization can go on and prosper, but only if we are honest with the individual parts and we get them on the right path – again, for the sake of righteousness.
Enough lip service – especially from me, now, lol.
After the sermon it was back to music and a short message from an older guy who I assume was the main minister for this flock. When all was said and done I tried to find the young minister on the floor of the lobby in order to ask him about the government crap, but I didn’t see him. So I cruised out to the car and with the help of some uniformed police officers I was able to make my way back out onto Brownsboro road and head home.
All in all a good time. I give the Northeast Christian Church 4 our of 5 nails up. Good music, good message, and I left with a big smile on my face. When I got home I had the girls singing “Ain’t gonna let no rock out praise me.” And Olivia astutely pointed out that, “Dad, it sounds like you had a good time.” I started to say that it was funny, you know, like a joke, but I paused for a moment and said, “You know what? I did have a good time.” I really did.
posted by Tsahkratis at 6:54 AM
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