Tag Archives: church

Clap

Clap: (v) to applaud

I have spent much of my human journey with two little toes in heaven and the rest of my footage on Earth.

Those two little toes did not go to market. They went to church.

It’s where I sang my first song.

It’s where I met my first girlfriend.

And it’s still one of my favorite spots for spontaneous dozing.

One of the things I discovered about the experience of “church attendance ” is that there is a wide range of opinions on many subjects.

Clapping would be one.

Some churches believe it’s sacrilegious to express appreciation, worship or excitement by striking palms. They find it Biblically and spiritually unsound.

Other churches clap so much that you can’t hear anything else going on. They clap for everything. It’s kind of a “clapping without ceasing.”

As a person who shares his talent in a church, I have to admit to myself that I am also a performer and an artist. (Although I think the word “artist” is overused–even by me.)

As a performer, I do have an ego. Ego is not a bad thing–it’s that little “Nancy-cheerleader” who keeps us from jumping off a cliff just because we had a bad day. (“It might get better tomorrow. Yea, team!”)

When you perform a song, come to the end, and receive silence, it is not golden.

It’s rather moldy.

Ashen.

Empty.

I’m told I’m supposed to sing to the glory of God. But it was God who said, “Clap your hands, all ye people.”

If you’re afraid I’ll get the big-head if you applaud my efforts, then you should pray for me. Don’t snub me.

Until we understand that the Universe pushes energy one direction and there is supposed to be a push coming back from the other way, or else something is afoul, we may just continue to believe that God is so insecure that He is frustrated with anyone else receiving adequate appreciation for his efforts.

Since I wouldn’t even have lunch with someone who’s cantankerous, I choose to believe that when I perform, God applauds, the angels screech…and the congregation should follow suit.

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Circumspect

Circumspect: (adj) wary and unwilling to take risks.

I have decided that the best way to protect our country from terrorists is to let moms and dads examine the bags at airports.

Think about it.

Your mother and father could always find a reason that anything you planned to do would either a) hurt you; b) make your grades drop; c)
keep you from God or the church; d) kill you.

If we put these moms and dads in charge at the airport, it would only take about two weeks before frequent flyers would grow weary of bringing along anything
 that might be questionable. For after all, not only would it be rejected, but also you would have to listen to the lecture on why it was stupid to consider bringing it in the first place.

Mommys and Daddys are circumspect–careful to a fault.

In the process they possibly spare their children some potential danger, but also plant seeds of suspicion and “Mommy-and-Daddyism” inside them, until such an hour that these children are in charge of their own little offspring, who likewise need to be ferociously protected.

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Church

Church: (n) a building used for public Christian worship.

Sometimes I need to laugh. I require a place for that.

Tears are often demanded. Once again, having a location where I can share them with others would be beneficial.

I need to go somewhere and know that I’m not the most important thing in the world. Where’s the address?

I like good music. I’m a little bit country; I’m a little bit rock and roll.

I need to see that I’m not alone. Difficult to do if you don’t gather somewhere.

Over and over and over again, I must be reminded to “love my neighbor as myself.” There should be some sort of joint that advertises that.

I know my money is to cover bills, but every once in a while, I need to think about the “Bill” that’s on the street. Any group of people willing to teach that?

I need to find agreement in the midst of a disagreeable world. Let the conversation begin.

In my moments of clarity, I do understand that I’m lost–in need of a Savior. Any candidates?

Even if I find out after I die that there is no heaven and no hell, I need to live my life as if heaven is available.

We sure could use church if church were what it’s supposed to be. If it’s merely an overblown expression of appreciation for some particular definition of God, then basically, it’s more of an annoyance than a bounty.

Let’s find the church.

If we can’t, let’s make one up.Donate Button

 

Cheesy

Cheesy: (adj) cheap, unpleasant, or blatantly inauthentic.

Wow, did you read that definition?

I guess Webster was really loaded for bear against “cheesy.”

Blatantly inauthentic?? Well, that would mean that each one of us would actually know or be acquainted with what is authentic.

We are not.

Everybody has their own taste in “cheesy.” (Please forgive that offering.)

In other words, if you go to a fundraiser, fighting some disease, they will drag all sorts of pitiful people in front of you to tell their stories of debilitation to
establish the need for contributions. This is not considered cheesy because…well, I guess because it is trying to help sick people.

Traveling on the road, I see a myriad of local TV commercials which try way too hard to be entertaining while inserting inordinate amounts of information in a thirty-second capsule. I might consider them cheesy, but the people involved would just declare them a “sales strategy.”

Sometimes I go to church and they bring the children’s choir up to sing “Jesus Loves Me,” as the adults feel compelled to ooh and aah, or say “Amen,” or worst of all, stand for a cheesy ovation. But it’s not really–it’s our kids, after all.

But then something comes our way that we are not invested in, is not our livelihood, and did not come from our loins, and we suddenly turn into critics, calling it maudlin, silly or cheesy.

Everyone is fully aware that without reaching the human heart, it is unlikely that you will impact our race. And what touches our emotions is rarely deep or convoluted. No, it’s some sort of kitty-cat video, where the little pussy runs across the frame chasing a bit of string and suddenly runs into a wall.

We giggle, embarrassed, and then repent by whispering, “Be careful, little kitty…”

The human race is cheesy. We are moved by the simplest of sentiments and absolutely baffled by complex interpretations.

You can feel free to act aggravated or high-falutin’ when you see something that yanks on your feelings, trying to pull you in the direction of glee or tears.

But without these gentle reminders of goodness and wonder, we become animals, growling at each other across the rain forest.

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Chant

Chant: (n) a repeated rhythmic phrase, typically one shouted or sung in unison by a crowd.

“If a powerful thought is repeated intensely by many people over and over again with greater volume, it has even more impact.”

Lots of people believe that.

It’s like being at a rally and hearing the crowd chant, “Give peace a chance,” or at church, with the congregation repeating with vigor, “God is so good.”

The truth is, we will continue to breed dictators, evil forces, charlatans and murderers as long as we insist that strength lies in the number of chanters.

After all, it was a raucous mob chanting, “Crucify him!” that instigated the assassination of the Light of the World.

Enough said.

 

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Champ

Champ: (n) a champion

Winning isn’t everything, but it is the blessing that arrives with free shipping. It is when we know that what we set out to do has merit and the worth is confirmed by appreciation.

I don’t know if you can teach people to be good losers without encouraging them to do so. I don’t know whether the human race will ever be
 willing to consider itself a “chimp” or a “chump” instead of a “champ.”

So intensely do we require this affirmation that we make up rewards.

  • “If I can stay awake for another hour, I’m going to get an ice cream sundae.”
  • “If I go to church, we get to go out to Sunday brunch following the service.”

We require applause.

And when either piety, pretense or peculiarity suggests otherwise, we should punch those scoundrels right in the nose.

We were created in God’s image, and we know that our Father says that He wants everything that has breath to praise Him. God wants to be a champ. He’s placed within us the need to be the same.

Now it is time to learn what truly makes us champs.

 

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Chairperson

Chairperson: (n) a chairman or chairwoman (used as a neutral alternative).

Words often foretell the temperament of the people around us and what they are going to demand to appease their sense of self-righteousness.

For instance, if I go to church and hear someone proclaim themselves to be a “sinner saved by grace,” I know for certain they will want me to
confess myself a sinner and to seek the magnificent grace advertised.

Likewise, when I hear someone use the term “chairperson,” I know two things to be true:

  1. They are under the misguided notion that a committee can agree to do anything but produce more red tape.
  2. And since they are using the “neutral” form of the word instead of “chairman,” I can assume they’re going to be pretty pissy.

Red tape and pissy.

That is usually my cue to suddenly remember that I left my keys in the car, find them in my pocket, climb in, start it up and go home.

 

 

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Ceremony

Ceremony: (n) a formal religious or public occasion

We catered the food so it must be good.

We rented expensive tuxedos, so we’re certainly on our way to a major event.

We brought out the cloth napkins. Must be important guests.

We’re also using the best china. It’s been a while.

We got a haircut. Time to look better.

We trimmed our beard or fussed with our eyebrows. Must be on the way to see the President.

We lit a candle. It’s got to be more spiritual.

Ceremony is when we believe that certain rituals or articles have more significance–therefore they announce greater value. Because of that, certain aspects of life have become ceremonial.

We can’t worship God without dressing up, getting in a car, going to church, sitting on our perch and being led through a series of pre-fabricated and pre-tested ceremonies.

We cannot get married without spending tens of thousands of dollars, confirming to everybody that we’re worth it and “this thing is really on the level.”

Ceremony robs us of the joy of simply enjoying good things for no damn good reason whatsoever.

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Celebrate

Celebrate: (v) to acknowledge a significant or happy day or event with a social gathering

The reason needs to be larger than the plan.

I have often attended celebrations where the actual organization of the event overshadowed the purpose for us gathering.

I sometimes feel that way when I go to church. We forget that the real significance of clumping is to strengthen one another, build up our
confidence and share a common testimony of faith. Yet by the time we get done with candles, musicians, sound systems, bulletins, announcements and special music, the beauty of the conclave seems to get swallowed up.

What is it I’m celebrating?

I would agree with Kool and the Gang that I can celebrate good times.

Celebrate another day of living.

I love to celebrate that evil viciously appears to be dominant until it’s suddenly snuffed by its own greed.

I like to celebrate that something can be non-existent and because I’m alive, the creativity I’ve been granted can make freshness appear.

What are we celebrating?

Some of the holidays that hang around baffle me. I’m certainly grateful for the Armed Forces, but how many times are we going to salute them every year? And does every celebration in America have to be accompanied with a protracted exercise in gluttony?

I celebrate that even as I write this, all across the world there are people I will never know who read it–and out of their English grammar propriety, feel completely licensed to rip it apart.

What a wonderful world.

That’s what we can celebrate–with all its madness, diversity and pending doom and gloom, life still manages to give us a daily clean canvas, available for beautiful painting.

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Boisterous

Boisterous: (adj) noisy, energetic, and cheerful; rowdy.

Noisy, energetic, cheerful and rowdy.Dictionary B

Those words are NOT synonyms–at least, not in our society.

Noisy: Please be more quiet.

Energetic: Yea, team!

Cheerful: Thank you for being pleasant.

Rowdy: Keep an eye on them–they look like trouble.

See what I mean?

It’s no wonder that upon hearing the word “boisterous,” anyone over the age of thirty immediately conjures negative images. And anyone under thirty pops up snapshots of a beer-bong party.

Unfortunately, because of this transition that occurs at our third decade, overnight we go from being fun-loving bozos to pernicious buzz-killers.

On top of that, we have certain areas where we do not accept boisterous behavior whatsoever–funerals, weddings (except the reception) and of course, church.

A boisterous funeral would be considered campy, but a bit uncouth.

A boisterous wedding would be viewed as an interruption of a sacred impartation.

And a boisterous church service would be translated as a holy-rolling, snake-handling hullabaloo of hillbillies.

Do we need to be boisterous? Are there times when our energy should become rowdy?

There just might be things in life worthy of raising our blood pressure … without getting us angry.

 

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