What an awful church!

I went to an awful church today.

They didn’t have Starbucks coffee. They didn’t have any coffee. Good grief, they didn’t have any snacks at all. It’s like they didn’t even care to satisfy our morning cravings.

They didn’t have a sign on their building; it didn’t seem to be important that people know where they are. Come to think of it, they really didn’t even have a building, just a room in what looked like a strip center. No decorations, no cross, no baptistry, nothing.

And no chairs, so we had to sit on the floor. On the floor! Are you kidding me? Did they think we were fourth-graders? Not only were we on the floor, but we were actually touching each other, we were so close. Have these people never heard of personal space?

They didn’t have a band. They didn’t have drums. They didn’t have bass. They didn’t have any brass instruments. They had a single guitar (played by a women, mind you, don’t get me started). I’ve heard better music around a campfire on the beach. And get this — they didn’t have any screens! They had an overhead (hey, the 70’s called and they want their projector back!) pointing to a sheet. A sheet! Like from a bed!

And children? Not only did they not have a children’s program — no kids church, no dramas, no bible stories — one of the member’s child was distracting during the entire service, making noises, walking around amongst the people (on the floor; did I mention we were on the floor?). It was absolutely unacceptable.

The pastor? Where to begin: he didn’t wear shoes, much less a coat and tie; he clearly had never been to seminary, much less graduated; he didn’t speak our language and made no efforts to accommodate our particular needs (sure, some of the congregation jumped in to translate, but really, would it hurt him to learn another language?). What kind of a leader can you be if you can’t even be bothered to put on shoes in the morning?

And when he was finished with his sermon, he just opened up the floor to anyone and everyone to give their testimony. Honestly, as if we care about some stranger’s “religious experience” — they sounded like a bunch of holy rollers, and from what I heard, the pastor’s lack of religious training clearly showed in his congregation’s testimonies. Talk about simple — all they had to say was how someone had shared Jesus with them and their life had been changed. Nothing about their quiet times, nothing about any insights they’d gotten from BSF, nothing about anything that would be of practical use.

One room, barely 25 people crammed together sitting on the floor, singing to words projected onto a sheet, listening to an untrained pastor preach a sermon, and unsophisticated people drone on about how Jesus had changed their lives. What an awful church!

I wonder if we can go back next week?

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