In a Fog
November 16th, 2008Two Churches in One Week
On Wednesday, I made my triumphant return to the community of churchgoers. While I was getting ready, I fell down the stairs, opened up my elbow, tore and got blood on a custom-made dress shirt, and nearly sprained a wrist. Today was to be the second visit. My sister’s dog stopped eating, so she refused to go.
If you try to do something to serve God, and nothing goes wrong, you are probably on the wrong track.
Today we were going to visit Rich Wilkerson’s Trinity Church, in Miami Gardens. My sister had been there before, and she said you could feel the presence of God there. When she told me she couldn’t go, I felt like that was the end of it. I hate going to a new church alone. I feel like everyone in the place is staring at me. And I never know what to do while the singing and hand-waving is going on.
I went to church on Wednesday. Missing a Sunday isn’t a big deal.
HOWEVER…
I could not keep myself from going. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like I had to go. I found myself getting ready, and then I was in the car, and even though I left late (so I could sneak in after everyone was seated), I arrived on time. I got gas and a car wash so I could weasel my way in, fifteen minutes later.
This place looked like a former nightclub. The ceiling was black, and there were all sorts of lights attached to it. I guess that’s standard in churches where they shoot video and play a lot of electric music. There was a big stage with a back drop that looked like the set of the old Sonny and Cher Show. There were people onstage playing electric instruments, and it was just a little too rock and roll for me, although I don’t think it was actually rock. The performers were excellent; I just didn’t find the music all that appealing. They had weird light-show displays, and there was even a fog machine.
A fog machine?
“Great,” I thought. A waste of time. I was about to be Reverend Iked.
I was wrong about that. After a few minutes, I felt something rise up inside me. It had nothing to do with the music or the light show or the fog. The music didn’t suit me very well, and the light show and fog were annoying. They didn’t cast a spell. If you’ve ever felt God’s presence, you know the sensation I felt. I couldn’t believe it. I was almost dizzy. I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t my own emotions. I wasn’t all that psyched up.
It was more intense than anything I’ve felt in church before. I think you can feel God’s presence in almost any church, to some degree. But this was insistent and powerful. It would not leave me alone.
Some people preach about the presence of God as an abstraction, and they say you’re supposed to experience it “by faith,” or some such thing. That’s probably just blather intended to excuse and explain away the fact that they and the people who follow them have never felt it. You can feel God’s presence physically, just like any other physical sensation. I don’t know the theory, and I don’t care to. I know the actual experience, and so do millions of other people. I wouldn’t want someone who had never tasted strawberries to give me a lecture on the flavor.
Pastor Wilkerson came out after the music ended, and he gave a sermon on things you have to believe in order to be a Christian. You have to believe Jesus led a sinless life. You have to believe Satan exists. I almost typed “Stan.” Yes, you also have to believe Stan exists. Get thee behind me, Stan.
In some ways, the sermon was disappointing. You always want some good scriptural references, but he didn’t give many. Fireworks didn’t go off in my head. I didn’t think, “Boy, this is brilliant stuff.” It was a good, solid sermon, however. He’s an excellent speaker.
It wasn’t the music. It wasn’t the force of the pastor’s personality. Maybe it was the faith of the people. This church is in an area of Miami full of island people. They’re used to the supernatural. Maybe their faith is stronger than ordinary white American faith. I don’t know the explanation, though. All I know is, the sensation of God’s power and presence was overwhelming. This must have been what people felt during the faith-filled gatherings at which the Apostles performed miracles. I wondered why someone didn’t get up, seize the moment, and start healing people.
At the end of the service, I got in the car, and I continued to feel it as I tried to get out of the parking lot. I didn’t stick around and do the visitor shtick. I was confused, and I wanted to think. I’m still somewhat confused.
I am inclined to go back next week. This church isn’t impressive in every respect, but if God is there in such a powerful way, how could you not want to go? I still can’t believe it.
I think they ought to knock off the fog and the light show. They really don’t need them.
I felt like I had to come home and write about this, so other people would know. Things like this don’t happen every day. I think this would be a great place to bring unbelievers. If you can feel this and not believe in God, there is something wrong with you.
They gave me a visitor card, and there was a space for a prayer request. I was in a hurry to fill it out for the ushers. I put in a request for my sister’s dog, Max. I’m thinking he must have gout. Henry the Eighth had gout, and his lifestyle was very similar to Max’s.
November 16th, 2008 at 4:16 PM
If you need a light show to sell the service, it is a very suspect church. A lot of the very best are not flashy at all (not that you can’t have a very professional set of musicians and great technical competence in presentation)
November 16th, 2008 at 4:20 PM
I don’t understand why a church like this would bother with the fog and lights. They clearly have the real thing, and I assume anyone who attends a service can feel it. Maybe the frippery makes the musicians happy.
November 16th, 2008 at 5:07 PM
Hog:
I had been away from your site for about a year when I wandered back a few weeks ago. I was intrigued to read about your spiritual search. I have a similar story. I was in the Catholic seminary from age 13 and left after college. I never went to church after that unless I was home visiting my family. I married a Baptist, but we did not attend church after our marriage. Ten years ago, I ended up as Business Manager of a Catholic Church and school system in my home community. That brought me back to church, but also opened all the old wounds. My wife dutifully attended with me, but she never bought into it either.
In 2001 we moved to Florida. We had agreed that we would find a church somewhere in the middle- between Baptist and Catholic- we both could attend. I did the window shopping Sunday after Sunday and we finally found a Methodist Church with an exceptional pastor. Like you, I did the church as theater tour and found too many people too taken with their own talents and not enough taken with just simply praising God. When the music or event manager sits on stage with a head set next to the pastor, I know I am in the wrong place.
After 4 years of intense involvement in the Methodist church, the pastor retired and we moved 30 miles, so the spiritual home I found was lost. We tried two other Methodist churches and both were in the midst of the how big can we get campaigns. One was raising millions and the other was trying to figure out how to pay off millions.
It is frustrating when you try to figure this ot on your own as opposed to just adopting the church you inherited from your parents, who inherited it friom theirs and so on. Maybe the answer is that we won’t find God in a (physical) church, we may find godly people there- or not. However, I feel uncomfortable trying to live a Christian life without attending weekly services with others in the same boat, but I figure I put in enough time in church in the seminary to buy me a little grace period. I worry about my wife though.
My message is that the search for a spiritual home is difficult, but maybe we’re looking in the wrong places?
Good luck in your search. You are obviously not alone.
November 16th, 2008 at 5:26 PM
I’m glad your ok, be settled and don’t let nay sayers throw the “you must have been in shock from your fall objection at you!”!.
November 16th, 2008 at 5:27 PM
BTW forget my spelling and grammer it’s not for thepost it’s my IM saying hey!
November 16th, 2008 at 6:40 PM
I think the money spent on glitz, glamor and special effects would be much better served on support of missions, community support and other Christian-related works.
I read an article in the paper about a local mega church’s new facilities. Over $500k for the A/V system in the sanctuary. A Starbuck’s kiosk. Full time web developers, video editor and “rock” band. Congregants attend services in t-shirts, shorts and sandals. It’s encouraged to do so. Shameful. Tailoring the Message to the times instead of holding fast to proper doctrine and principle.
Another local mega church’s pastor hops into a private jet and flies out to Orange County, California to preach at a satellite church out there. He’s also one of those theological hucksters that puts out a book every year or so and preaches more about wealth and success than scripture. And yes, he’s on TV.
As for my family and me – we attend a local, medium-sized, conservative Methodist church. One that was built in 1871. It’s uplifting, spirit filled, and old school at the same time. I fell guilty when not wearing a suit or blazer – it’s called “Sunday best” for a reason. My wife and I both have commented on how the pastor’s sermons most often have a message that is very contextual in our lives at the moment they’re delivered. (The pastor quoted Psalm 119 last week, which I thought interesting given your recent writings on it.)
So, I suppose if a preacher uses a set reminiscent of the one Obama used for his speech in Denver, you may wish to reconsider attending such a church. I like to know that the church and pastor are willing to forgo fancy, modern and unnecessary theatrics and facilities in order to put the congregation’s gifts to better and more appropriate applications.
But hey, that’s just me.
November 16th, 2008 at 7:06 PM
It looks like people are only skimming what I wrote. Mike seems to get the picture.
November 16th, 2008 at 7:39 PM
What you felt did not come from the pastor, but directly from the Creator. See Matt 18:20.
It is the choice of the individual to gather and garner something from services. Our pastor is a total dumbass, but the Creator can use the most inappropriate of tools to do the job he needs done. If you keep your ears and mind and heart open, the Creator will be there.
I prefer places with no windowdressing as well, and my favorite mass is in a little Franciscan friary where the assembled faithful rarely total twenty and they probably don’t have 500 bucks between them. God seems to love them especially, because I always leave those services with the best feeling in the world.
I also love going to small black churches. Most often Baptist or methodist. The music is incredible.
November 17th, 2008 at 2:06 AM
G-d has some weird kids.
November 17th, 2008 at 10:05 AM
Acchk!!! Bad Commenters! “They does it wrong we does it right.”
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But yay! Definitely Matt 18:20 and why I prayed a year or two ago for this for you (if my faulty memory serves me right.) I think all I prayed is that you’d find a church home and you can’t say you’ve done it yet, but Yay! The Church often dissapoints but God never will.
November 18th, 2008 at 1:57 AM
For a while my family pulled out of the Methodist congregation I was born into in the late 1950’s because of the secular influence Emory University (the only “official” Methodist seminary) in Atlanta was placing on issues like doubting the virgin birth of Christ and other popular late 1960’s early 1970’s social/cultural issues.
About twenty of us (four or five families) went out and started our own Independent Methodist church, interviewed and hired a retired Army Protestant Chaplain as a preacher, and held services in a rented room each sunday at the local public library. (reptiles were forbidden and hollering in tongues was optional)
Next thing you know we had sixty or eighty people sitting there on Sunday, and the thing grew and grew with nothing but good intentions and honest faith providing the fuel and fire, and we ended up designing a building on our dining room table, raising CASH to buy the land and erecting a building which still stands today as a monument to what honest, sincere people can do in the name of our Lord.
I sat around with my bell bottoms in the day playing a cheep electric guitar on the back row of the choir section and serving as president of the youth group and in the process gained an inner grace and understanding of the big picture that’s gotten me through some really stupid things I’ve allowed myself to get into since then.
The place ended up being stolen by a rabble rousing group of holy rollers (with a little “H”) that worked their way through the area infiltrating buildings they didn’t have the patience and financial resolve to build on their own and our family ended up throwing up our hands and moving back in attendance at the big United Methodist Church downtown smalltown Alabama after the Vietnam psychedelic movement settled down .
Any way…keep on writing…you’re making me think about going back inside a building on Sundays…having spent the past thirty years watching the sun rise by myself and denying the spirit’s infulence yet accepting it’s movement that’s kept me semi-sane on this side of the life/death curtain thus far.