Tuesday, June 16, 2009

There is a harsh list of criteria, almost as capricious as it is long, that must be met in order for me to attend church. First of all, I must awaken–unassisted by an alarm clock, naturally–somewhere from 8:20-8:33 AM EST. Any time outside this range renders attendance hopeless and sends me straight back to bed. It must not be rainy. It must also not be too sunny. The temperature gradient between indoors and outdoors must be just so.

When I do make it, I conveniently arrive 15 minutes late, just as the onstage band is knee-deep in some guitar riff, which effectively cuts worship music in half. 17-20 minutes of tardiness means I sidestep the offering plate entirely, thereby negating the need to swing by an ATM. And contrary to what the folded program might suggest, the service really ends shortly after the sermon, when I disappear immediately following the reverend’s closing prayer. It’s the churchgoing version of the Amen Corner, if you will.

You could say it was extraordinary, then–supernatural, perhaps–that I went to church for a consecutive Sunday and, more to the point, stayed until the very end. Truly, it was a day of days and lo! Unto you a heathen was sanctified, if only for an hour-fifteen. Whether I’ll be present for a statistically improbable third showing remains to be seen. This question of community, especially the religious variety, is something with which I continue to wrestle. I just don’t commune, you know? And I’m not referring here to the bread and wine.