Quiet Christians go to Hell

Guess what the humidity level is here today. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. I think if I stood in the front yard for half an hour, I’d come back covered with mold. When I run the garage air conditioner full blast, it only gets down to about 80, and it smells in there. Last night I had to use the rear defogger in order to see while the car air conditioner ran.

Man, this is nasty. The whole month has been rough. August is probably a great month for Miami burglars, because everyone goes on vacation to avoid the weather.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had this experience, but it has been so hot and bright here, there are days when I come inside out of the sun and sit in the air conditioning and still feel like the roasting rays are beating down on me. They get inside you somehow.

We are having a bizarre combination of rainy overcast days, and days when there are no clouds and the sun seems to chase you wherever you go. I can’t wait for the middle of September, when things should start to change.

Last night, a preacher named Allen Griffin spoke at church. I don’t recommend you visit his website, because it crashes Firefox. He was very good, but he has a habit which is not unusual with black preachers. Eventually, he starts to yell. I don’t like listening to yelling. It hurts my ears and prevents me from thinking. I believe we are supposed to think in church. I may be wrong.

If you have anything worthwhile to say, people will get excited even if you speak calmly. Maybe the phrase “still small voice” will ring a bell. I am hoping the church will eventually get away from screaming and sweating and raucous music. I know what the presence of God feels like, and it always decreases when the noise gets past a certain point. This is why I can’t stand Christian hard rock. If God is present when they play this crap, you only notice it between songs, when the racket dies down. And rap…rap is just stupid, regardless of the context and content. Christian rap is like Christian abortion. A bad idea no matter how you look at it. Why conform to the worst, most depraved lifestyle the world has to offer? I thought the idea was to get the world to conform to God’s ways.

I know you think Jesus was an O.G. I know you’re down with the Holy Ghost and you want to smack the devil up. Word. Really. But rap, by its sonic nature, is inherently expressive of a desire to be violent, arrogant, selfish, and abusive. It doesn’t matter what the words say, if the rest of the sound makes you feel like punching someone in the mouth and holding your gun sideways. Music expresses emotions completely independently from language. You don’t need obnoxious lyrics to make the music itself obnoxious. And telling us Jesus is your homey won’t make up for harsh, provocative sounds. Plus it makes you sound stupid. Jesus didn’t imitate the world. He went to bars, sure, but I doubt he played drinking games or stood on his head while chugging wine. He was there to influence, not to be influenced.

Some people manage to rap about God in a way that isn’t harsh or full of arrogance, but they’re so exceptional, I have to wonder if their success justifies the temptation that brings down the other 95%. Besides, if you perform a certain type of music successfully, you will end up associating with others in the same genre who are not Christians and who will try to make you conform. Then you find yourself in a sex video with Kid Rock, and people start citing your story as proof that Christianity doesn’t work.

I’ve noticed something about Christian performers influenced by rap. They hold their hands right next to their genitals. It’s disturbing. Rappers fondle themselves on stage all the time. It’s mandatory. Obviously, Christians influenced by rap are aware of this, and they want everyone to know they’re serious Christian gangsters, but they aren’t allowed to fondle themselves, so they move their hands two inches to the side and squeeze and pet their upper thighs. The difference may mean something to them, but to me, it says, “I want to fondle my genitals publicly, but Jesus won’t let me.” It’s like the difference between “nigga” and “nigger.” It doesn’t fool anyone. Just keep your hands away from your crotch. Nobody wants to see that in church. The whole time they’re doing it, you find yourself staring obsessively at that hand, wondering if it’s going to move to the center.

I will never understand the “nigga” thing. It’s like saying it’s okay to call a woman a “hore” or a “hoar,” but not a whore, because that’s totally different. Try this. Call the Secret Service and say you want to “murda” the President but not “murder” him. See if they think that’s okay.

A lot of people think getting emotional and screaming is evidence that God is near, but that’s crazy. God’s presence is not an emotional state. It’s something you feel, the same way you might feel a draft or a touch on your shoulder. It makes you calmer, not more agitated. It’s a big mistake to give people the idea that hollering and jumping up and down have something to do with the Holy Spirit. That kind of excitement lasts about ten minutes, and then it goes away, and your fuel is gone. And you can expect to do idiotic, regrettable, embarrassing things in that state. Your antics will offend people and prevent them from coming to church. The real thing lasts and doesn’t take anything out of you. Heathens all over the world work themselves into frenzies and take drugs and beat themselves with chains and whips. That’s human effort. It’s worthless and counterproductive. In Christianity, you don’t have to do those things. And you don’t have to yell.

I get so tired of being told I have to let out a big yell for God, or do a cartwheel, or break dance, or take part in a human pyramid, or bungee jump while playing the accordion with my hair on fire. Give it a rest, Pastor Shabba Doo. Let God do the work. Am I wrong? Sing, play instruments, raise your hands, praise God aloud…isn’t that enough? Seriously, I’m wondering when pentecostal churches will start buying trampolines. He who hits the church ceiling hardest is clearly most holy. Is it church or is it Church du Soleil?

I wish David had never danced. The attention-starved nuts get so much mileage out of that. They like dancing and yelling and acting up, so the rest of us have to like it, too, or we’re not holy. The message isn’t, “This will help you worship.” It’s, “I’m better than you because I carry on like George Michael.” Maybe the old lady in the back row isn’t doing rhythmic gymnastics like the really holy people, but perhaps she prays four hours a day, supports twenty charities, visits prisons and hospitals, takes in orphans, and has all four gospels memorized. Maybe you should quit telling her she’s letting God down by not making an ass of herself. Maybe you’re not super holy. Maybe you just really like putting on a show. Before you talk about the splinter in my eye, take the disco ball out of your own eye, St. John Travolta. Try to get back your deposit on that mechanical bull, cancel the synchronized swimming, and take down the trapeze. I didn’t come to church to see the Flying Wallendas. I have a feeling that 99% of the people who like dancing and acting insane in church are people who really loved doing these things before they became Christians. I doubt God has anything to do with it.

The Psalms say the meek will inherit the earth. I guess “meek” means “inclined to sing way too loud while jumping and prancing like a gay chicken on a hot plate on South Beach.”

Anyway, church was very good, even though they didn’t bring out the limbo bar or the Slip ‘n’ Slide. I guess I can stand a little yelling.