Thursday, July 19, 2007

There’s a moment, right before the serve, when your surroundings are couched in a kind of inhale, and it’s fast becoming my favorite part of tennis. It happens the instant the ball leaves your hand, suspended between anticipation and commitment, bound to skim just over the net. You connect with the ball. Your form is on, the follow-through perfect, angle precise, and in the exhale–for a second or two–things lock into place. And then it’s time for breakfast, a delicious spread of fruit and yogurt and– Man, I want a steak-and-egg sandwich.

The interplay between secular and Christian media has always fascinated me, and I’m increasingly convinced the two should remain forever sundered. Would I be way off base in claiming the latter seeks to be more like the former, often with disastrous results? And I don’t know if this is a local thing–perhaps you’ve experienced it as well–but why do praise bands insist on trotting out Green Day, U2, or Chris Daughtry during service?

I thought the main point was worship, but Sunday apparently doubles as a venue for goddamn cover bands. Maybe they’re right, though, because based on the profundity of Bono’s lyrics, he could be a minor prophet, and sure, the Good Book warns against idols, but it never mentioned anything about American Idol or the rejects thereof, did it?

Or maybe they’re wrong, and it’s time to build a mental ark designed to navigate the flood of mediocrity. It’s not an impending flood, mind you. It’s already here, where Christian media is indistinguishable from the secular stuff. I’d like to be able to tell the difference.