Dec. 2 Old-Fashioned Religion

                My teeth are brushed and my face is clean as I head off to church on Sunday morning. I’m still in jeans and flannel; that’s all I’ve got and that’s good enough for me. It’s going to be a long walk out to that church, so I’ll be sweaty when I get there anyway. I’ll have to try to find a bathroom and freshen up a little when I arrive.

                I arrive outside the church at 9:15. From the front it’s a small concrete building. Parking and entrance must be in the back. I take a wide circle around the other side to survey the building and look for the main entrance. There’s an open courtyard with two black men in coats and ties having a conversation. They glance at me as I roll up with my cart, but quickly go back to their conversation.

                “Ahem, Excuse me, is this the right entrance?”

                “Uh, yea…” They seem confused by my question, and quickly turn back to resume their conversation leaving me standing there. Another man steps up,

                “Hello, are you new here?”

                “Yes, I am. Does Sunday School start at 9:30?” He offers me a firm handshake.

                “Yes, it does, but we’ll be starting Sunday School a little late this morning. The first Sunday of each month we have a fellowship breakfast. You can leave your things right over there by the wall and come in here.” The scent of fresh eggs and sausage meets me at the cafeteria door with a hug. Mmm… I’m not sure how I keep stumbling across church dinners like this! I figure it’s my mom praying that I’ll eat well.

The line snakes around the small, crowded cafeteria past the kitchen counter where several ladies are serving up hot food. So far everyone I’ve seen is black, but this is nothing like the church in Randallstown. I can see a strong indication of Caribbean in their features. Even the children are speaking English, but the grammar is completely different and sometimes hard to understand. It's definitely not Ebonics; it's thick Caribbean. I’m guessing the split is half Haitian, a quarter Dominican. Two white single ladies speaking Russian and an elderly oriental couple, I’d guess Japanese from their faces. If this is the only Baptist church in the area, where are the whites? Odd…

                When I get to the end of the breakfast line I stand for a second looking around the crowded room for a place to sit. An elderly lady sees me looking and drums her finger on an empty spot across the table from her. As I sit down I look into her face and wait for eye contact intending to thank her and greet her, but she ignores me for the rest of the meal. If I had been an unchurched person coming in looking for love and acceptance I’d be ready to walk out already and never given Christianity another consideration. I’ve been to lots of wonderful churches recently, but something is wrong here.

                When I finish the breakfast I ask where Sunday school is held.

                “Through that red door.” I follow the direction of the pointed finger and find a hallway that leads to a dark room with classroom desks and shelves of decaying old books. An elderly gentleman is sitting in the front row looking through some papers. He looks up when he hears me enter, but goes back to what he’s doing without a word. I sit at one of the desks in the center of the room and wait silently. As several men filter in they greet each other but ignore me. When the teacher arrives he goes through several announcements. We sing a chorus, and the teacher turns over the floor to a student in a jet black suit. Apparently the church is providing Bible classes and this young man is a homiletics student fulfilling his preaching requirement. He gives his text, but reads it without allowing us enough time to find it in our own Bibles, then he reads us the English dictionary definition of the word, “Salvation” and spends the rest of the hour going through dry facts about the institution of salvation. This is painful! I’m trying hard not to be rude, but it’s all I can do to stay awake. I literally crumple and then snap awake again half way through the lesson. After that I try extra hard to sit up rigidly straight so that I don’t fall asleep but it’s a chore. This kid has mostly nailed the technical points of proper homiletics, but just about bored me to death! Judging by his rigid approach, I’m getting the idea he’s doing exactly what he’s been taught to do. Too bad you can’t lecture the spiritual gift of teaching into someone. When the leader resumes the floor he closes in prayer, but not before expressing encouragement at the improved turn-out this week. Apparently attendance has been low. Shocker.

                We file out of the Sunday School classroom and I make my way to the sanctuary for the worship service. I keep my head up and try to make eye-contact and greet people, but it’s not working. Some traditional hymns get the service rolling and a deacon shares announcements. They’re trying to get more men to sign up for Bible classes, so I have to sit through a high-pressure guilt trip about how people don’t have a passion for the Word of God anymore and need to come to these classes. I’d rather take a kick to the balls.

                When we’re done with announcements and traditional hymns the old American pastor climbs slowly up to the pulpit. Someone this old might be a man of great wisdom, but judging by the atmosphere of his flock, I’m not exactly fired up just yet. He’s the only English-speaking white person I’ve seen besides his wife, daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter. He looks more like a missionary in this environment. You’d never know we were in Miami surrounded by unreached white people.

                He directs us to Proverbs 29:18 and reads from the King James “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” Now, I’m only a young guy with limited Bible training, but I’ve known for a long time that this is a prime example of poor translation in the King James and also an easily misunderstood passage. Any commentary out there will tell you that “vision” is a reference to revelation from God, not “vision” as in “catch a vision.” It’s even right here in the notes of my Life Application Study Bible. Certainly as lifelong minister of God’s Word the preacher knows this… Right? No. He launches from that single phrase taken out of context and begins going through points about how we need to catch a vision. He barely makes another reference to Scripture through the rest of the sermon. He’s not actually teaching the Bible, he’s just using it as an excuse to spout off his own personal agendas. He peppers his sermon with random shouting and clapping his hands loudly to draw attention to himself and “wake up” the people. It’s an attempt at passionate preaching, but it’s obnoxious.

                After several “visions” that he wants us to get, his final point is “A Vision for Bible Separation” Now, I believe strongly in the doctrine of separation. It’s the Scriptural principle that we are to have separate desires from unbelievers. We are supposed to be distinct as followers of God because of the separate things we chase after. Inexplicably, several uptight religious groups have taken this in the sense of physical or geographical separation from engagement with lost people, even though the Bible specifically says that’s exactly what it does NOT mean! (1Cor.5:10) This self-righteous, monastical notion has done great damage by separating God’s people from the ones they are supposed to love and restore. We certainly need “biblical” separation, but this preacher specifically calls for “old-fashioned” separation. The old-fashioned kind of separation is the very kind of separation that made the church culturally irrelevant and odious to hurting people. If we’re going to practice separation, I certainly hope we can come up with something better than the old-fashioned kind because that was a miserable failure!

                He bemoans the compromising of modern churches and promises his people: “This pastor is not going to compromise!” As an example he mentions how many churches have dropped the name “Baptist” from their churches. Yea, ‘cause Jesus definitely commanded all churches to have “Baptist” in their name! This guy is making me angry! He cries about how our nation has abandoned God, but he’s a prime example of how Christians have abandoned their culture and left it without good Biblical testimony to follow. America is in moral shambles today because the Church has traditionally been too bogged down in the dark ages with made-up doctrines about music styles, dress standards, and entertainment rather than spiritual principles that the Bible actually teaches. That kind of backward obsession can never address the real struggles and issues of average hurting people on the streets! The churches he's preaching against are the ones that are actually leading Spirit-filled ministries and seeing changed lives! We’re certainly not going to fix America by forcing it backward into the errors that led us here in the first place! It’s not the fault of Hollywood and it’s not the fault of the government! It’s the fault of self-righteous, ignorant preachers like this with their heads buried in dusty books but determined not to learn anything lest, heaven forbid, they compromise their Victorian hang-ups!

                When he closes the service with a cliché invitation and all six verses of “Just As I Am” it’s almost too much for me. I’m ready to just walk out. Six verses aren’t enough, he’s still shouting over the music about how someone still needs to come down the isle, so we sing straight through all six verses again! When he finally lets us go I can hardly get out fast enough. I feel bad for these Haitians who apparently don’t know any better than to hold their pastor accountable, but other than them this church is reaching NOBODY! Even what they’re getting is sloppy misinterpretations, false contexts, and straight up lies! I think it would be more profitable for me to go to the Mormon church!

                On the walk back I stop and at McDonalds to use the internet, but their outlets aren’t working so I can’t charge anything and it’s terribly noisy inside. I finish my burnt coffee and go back to my familiar spot at Dunkin’ Donuts. Ahh… that’s better. Nichole is closing the store tonight, so we keep each other company until closing. I write Friday’s blog and answer emails. As Nichole cleans up the store for closing I tell her about my slow progress with the job at Indian Creek. She says she thinks I’ll probably get the job since I have experience in grounds already. She also says she thinks they will pay well. I hope she’s right! Tomorrow morning is Monday, and I’m pretty much planning on planting myself at the front gate and refusing to go anywhere until they let me in for an interview.

                Back at Haulover for the night, I sit on the beach in the moonlight and eat my supper out of the cart while I listen to the surf come in. Lovely! I’m getting used to supper on the beach every night. Even a lousy day melts off my shoulders sitting there in the sand listening to the waves with the warm breeze washing over me and watching the moonlight on the whitecaps.