Sunday, September 25, 2005

My Saturday Church

I go to a new-kind of church every Saturday. This is far from your traditional, suit-and-tie/frilly dress church...at this church there is no dress code. We have no preacher and rarely any music, save the cacophonous melodies of circular-saws gnawing on wood and hammers methodically messaging nail heads. We don't pass any plates because our time is our offering. Our sacraments are gatorade and turkey sandwiches. Our locations vary from week to week but our order of worship is mostly the same. For many of us this is the only church we would ever attend. In fact, many of us hate the church and dislike many Christians.

Every week we greet the many new vistors with a smile and a slap on the back. But for those of us are members, who come week after week with a tool belt and a helmet to give a family a chance at a better life. We come for varied reasons--as I guess is the case for most church-goers. Some of us come for the fellowship with other sweaty sojourners trying to give those less-fortunate a hand up. Others come for different reasons...which are often ineffable.

Like many Sunday church-goers we have a place where we congregate after "service". We don't wait in line at Denny's or Sizzler like many of our southern counterparts. We meet at Manny's Pub for a pint of cold beer or a shot of something stronger. These are our Saturdays...this is our church. Peace.

<< Home