Sunday, talky Sunday.

For the longest time, the thing we did at church on Sundays didn't make the least bit of sense to me. I think it was supposed to be for worshiping God, but it always seemed weird to get together for an early-morning theater performance every week, where some people got up and sang some songs with cloying arrangements, and then they led us in singing some more songs that weren't nearly as cloying. Then we heard highlights of upcoming events that were also mentioned in the program that a guy in a suit handed us in the way in, and the audience was invited to make a brief attempt at personal connection by 'standing and greeting' (HAIL, GOOD SIR, HOW FARES YOUR FINE FAMILY THIS MORNING?). After that, a guy stood up and talked to God for a second so we knew he was starting a message and then said some good things and some hard things about Jesus or the Bible or sometimes the nation and then talked to God again to let us know when he was done speaking. Then we sang another song while there was some fancy choreography with offering plates being passed down alternate rows, after which someone talked to God as a closer or reminded us of another upcoming event and then we put the chairs away for Awanas on Wednesday or the women's aerobic class on Tuesday.

A lot of the time, at the end, we would all bow our heads and close our eyes and the announcement guy or the speaker asked us if, based on the message we had just heard, we wanted to become a Christian, and if so, there was a way you could do that. And if you were already a Christian and you wanted to rededicate your life, there was a way to do that too. Then he talked to God in some predetermined prayers about either becoming a Christian or rededicating oneself to being one. Nobody saw who it was that wanted to do these things because he made everyone keep their eyes closed. So he was the only person who saw who wanted to say the prayers with him. I always wanted to know. I thought it was exciting.

And then we went out for lunch. I liked Fazoli's best, because it's cheap and delicious, and gluten makes me feel warm and fuzzy like I'm wearing a stocking cap.

However, If you didn't make it to church, you might be sinning, because church on Sunday was where you were supposed to be if you wanted to be a Christian. And if someone didn't go, you could be pretty darn sure they weren't trying to be a Christian. Also, you were supposed to invite your friends to Sunday Church Theater so they could talk to God in that prayer at the end and then become people who went to church on Sundays.

At least, that's how it seemed, even if I knew that's not what the people who organized things intended it.

Don't get me wrong. I liked church a lot of the time. I'm not trying to bash it. Sometimes the songs we sang were very inspiring, and it felt like I was talking to God right in my head, and he was right there with me listening. And most of the time I found that the message the guy told to us was very inspiring and made me want to live better and love people more, and I learned a lot about who God is and what's in the Bible. I really loved the people there, too. Like a great big extended family where people know your name.

But I didn't get why we did Sunday church. It was supposed to be this necessary thing that you did as a Christian; I knew that. But first off, it was really early in the morning for a weekend, especially if you were a teenager, or a young adult, or a me, so I was usually tired when I came in. Which is not helpful for trying to pay attention, let alone worshiping someone.

And then, most of the program felt like the kind of theatre where the people on stage just perform at the audience, without any interaction. It was more like a seminar or a presentation that I showed up to every week, thrown by one group of people, all so I could show my devotion to some other person. Sometimes it felt like he showed up, and sometimes it felt like we just talked a lot about him from a distance

After a while, Jill and I switched churches. I don't like to think that it was a consumerist decision, but it very well might have been. We just felt like we fit in better at Jacob's Well. The music was much more our style. And overall, it felt more like I was part of the performance, rather than the audience. And then there was the fact that most of the time, there was an opportunity to respond to what the speaker was saying, so it didn't feel so much like we were being talked at, but rather talked to. And believe me, whenever I get the chance for someone to hear my opinion, I'm so in.

The funny thing is, at our old church, I sometimes got in trouble for talking. I once got kicked out of a Sunday School class for dominating the conversation. Not to mention all the dirty stares I used to get in youth group when I asked a lot of questions and speedily answered all the speaker's questions.

Back in high school I used to sit in the front row of class. Usually to the right. And if there were ever a kid you didn't want in your class, it was me. I was Darwinian: I figured that since I wanted to learn, I would get as much of the teacher's time as possible. I mean, if the other students wanted any attention, they were going to have to speak up. Survival of the talkiest, said I.

Teachers of teachers will tell you that you're supposed to wait at least 12 seconds after you answer a question before you move on to the next one, or add to it. That gives most people enough time to respond if they have an answer. I was the kid who didn't believe in wait times. Heck, I usually had an answer before the teacher was done asking the question. Always trying to impress people with my brain power, that's me.

But anyway, yeah, I liked the new church a lot more. I felt more at home. And on the talking front, I have even had people say they appreciate the things I have to say. Which is pretty warming because I'm always afraid that I'm speaking up too much. One Sunday, when Moe spoke, she even said she had hoped I would say something and when I almost didn't, it felt odd. Like me talking in church made her feel more comfortable.

That's not to say I haven't totally opened my mouth at the wrong time at Jacob's Well. I think me dominating conversations is part of the reason some people never came back to our small group after the first time. And I really think I answer questions too much in the service. Some weeks, I have lots of things to say, but I just keep my mouth shut because I don't want to be the guy who talks too much. It's hard though because I really really like my own opinions, as yo might be able to tell.

But even with how much I liked Jacob's Well and the services, I still didn't get why we were doing the Sunday morning thing (well, Sunday evening there). In the stories in the Bible, God seemed to always come to people in the middle of nowhere. Out in the desert mostly. When they were thirsty or alone.

Then after a while, once the people who followed God established a country of their own, and built a temple, which is like a church building, they still didn't so much do theatre presentations as they celebrated festivals with tents and long walks and mutton. Also, they killed animals to deomonstrate that they had to depend on God for their security rather than their livestock and wealth.

Or then later, when Jesus came along, he also liked nature and the wilderness, and he walked all over the place and the people walked with him and listened to him speak and teach on mountaintops and in valleys and by lakes. But he was supposed to be God, not just a guy who liked God a lot. So that's different, I think.

At that time, even if you wanted to follow God seriously and you didn't follow Jesus, you still walked around right behind the teacher you wanted to follow, trying to live like he did. You went where he went and did what he did. There's even a story when a guy hid out under his teacher's bed so he could even try to be like his teacher when having sex.

And then still later, after Jesus wasn't around anymore, people got together in each others houses and mostly ate meals together.

None of these is much like a Sunday Morning Theatre Experience at all.

One of the church events I like most at Jacob's Well is the community forums. Once a quarter or so, and sometimes more often, the church sponsors a discussion group on a topic. Like 'Combating Slavery in Kansas City', or 'Living Simply', or 'How to Deal with Having Kids With Mental Disabilities'. People crowd into the sanctuary or the common room up on the third floor, which you want to get to early because there are some leather couches that are so comfortable the Spanish Inquisition might take interest, and talk it out together. Someone leads the discussion, and usually there is a presenter with experience in the area that we're talking about.
It's all very egalitarian and anyone who wants to say something can just speak up and be heard. Again, if you're there, and I'm there, you're going to hear me say something; I like to talk.

Sometimes, when there's something that requires more in-depth discussion, the community forum goes for more than one week. Usually when that happens, it's because there's a good book that worth reading and discussing with other people. Like, Colossians Remixed by Walsh and Keesmaat, for example, or Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne. One of the books we read was Lauren Winner's Real Sex, which is a really down-to-earth and honest look, even for married people, at practicing the discipline of chastity.

The last week of the forum, Lauren Winner her very self came and spoke on a Saturday night, and then Sunday at church. She has a real laid-back style, and she teaches college somewhere so she uses words that even I had to look up, which, I can tell you, is rare in a speaker. She had lots of good things to say about sex and how it relates to trying to follow Jesus. How the way that you approach sex can be a spiritual practice. And how because what one person does sexually affects the people around them, that sex is a community issue not a personal issue even if it is private and not public.

Tim Keel mentioned some of this yesterday in his sermon, too, about how everything we do forms us and shapes us and those around us. How the stories we hear and the stories we tell, and the things we do with our bodies really matter in shaping who we become. Not in a legalistic way, where you get to tell other people what to do and look down on them if they don't do the same things as you, but more like a person training to be the best at an Olympic sport. All of this also falls in with my theory that the mystical and the mundane are the same thing. But that's a post for another day.

Anyway, one of the things Lauren mentioned was that Sunday church was another spiritual discipline like chastity or fasting or reading your Bible. And that finally clicked for me. That's a legitimate reason to get together on Sundays the way we do. Not that Sunday church is the thing you do to prove you want to follow God, or your central activity as a Christian, it's just a beneficial practice for personal growth. I can get behind that. Finally a reason that makes sense.

Now if I can only restrain myself and not tell everyone my opinion on it.

Oh wait.