April 08, 2007
The problem in the pews
Seeing as how so many of my Christian friends are celebrating this Easter Sunday in church, this is as good a time as any to renew my criticism of the lack of decorum, mystery and majesty from worship services -- of all faiths, my own included.
I can't tell you how many times I've walked into the synagogue for Shabbat eve or morning worship, to find I'm the only man wearing a tie -- much less a coat. One time, I saw a father and son wearing matching dirty t-shirts, and there is no end to the teenage girls wearing midriff-baring, cleavage-displaying clothes, flirting, chatting and text-messaging throughout the service.
But it's not just me; Jennifer Graham quit attending services at her Catholic parish, fed up by inappropriate behavoir on display every Sunday.
I am a ruthless church shopper, not because my family spends so much time in a sanctuary, but because we spend so little. I figure if we are going to spend only an hour or two each week in formal worship of the Almighty, it better be a quality hour, one with a challenging sermon, soaring music and no Game Boys in the next pew.
This is why we spent the better part of Lent shopping for a new church. The Game Boys did me in.
[...]
Now, I know there are many people who have meaningful religious experiences inside ugly churches, but I’m not one of them. I dislike modern structures that resemble gyms with crucifixes, with their rows of folding chairs. I want a church that looks like a church; the grander, the better. And this one looked the part. It was both majestic and simple, with stained glass befitting an anteroom of heaven. It was old. It was loved. Surely the people who worshiped within appreciated beauty and recognized its importance in the adoration of the Creator.
I'm in total agreement; the time spent in worship ought to be ... erm, uplifting, doncha think? And there's nothing -- NOTHING awe-inspiring about the bland, utilitarian, sleek, modern houses of worship I've attended. Give me a traditional church, and even if it's housing a congregation that's never experienced the joys of gefilte fish, challah or hamentashen, I can still feel a chill run down my spine, a recognition that there is something greater than the ego, the id, Gen X, Y or Z.
I attended midnight Mass at Notre Dame when I was studying in Paris, and listening to the voices of the worshippers echoing off the ancient vaulted ceilings was profoundly moving, even to a Jewish kid from Brooklyn.
Anyhow, Graham found was troubled by many of the same things that bothered me at my local shul.
But, over the next few months, we discovered things we could not deal with, starting with the attire of our fellow worshipers.
Fleece and denim prevailed, with Spandex close behind. Washing appeared to be optional; ironing discouraged. Men collecting the offering wore T-shirts from their latest 5Ks. Whole families went to Communion in blue jeans with ragged edges that dragged on marble floor. Altar servers wore cowboy boots and Crocs.
For a while, some children were wearing Heelys in the fellowship hall, until the church posted a sign saying they were no longer allowed because they weren’t safe. WEREN’T SAFE? How about because they are disrespectful and inappropriate?
But we were new; I said nothing. These people may be dressed for a horse auction, but at least they were going to church. We would continue to dress up, believing that God (if not our neighbors) was deserving of our very best. More than once, someone would smile at my four-year-old, conspicuous in her smocked dress and polished shoes, and ask what was the special occasion was. “Uh….. Sunday?” I thought to myself, but kept quiet.
[...]
What kind of people expect so little of their children? What kind of priest expects so little of his congregation?
There's a lot to be said for a religion that asks something of its worshippers; asking -- no, demanding that congregants show some respect for the church, for the clergy and for themselves is a small start.
Posted by Mike Lief at April 8, 2007 08:49 AM
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Comments
This is SOOO good . . . I might actually write a thoughtful attaboy. If my busy schedule permits, of course.
Posted by: The Little Coach at April 9, 2007 07:53 AM
Boy howdy, are you right on the spot. People enter the houses of God dressed as if they were ordering a bucket of chicken wings. Of course, they also fail to dress: for dinner in nice restaurants; weddings; court appearances; and significant family events.
I think the way-too-casual attitude toward dress, though, is more prevalent in Southern California than in most other parts of the country. Of course, who can wear flip-flops, board shorts, and a dirty t-shirt in upstate New York . . . the weather actually forces you to dress a little bit better.
Who am I to talk, I suppose. I tried to institute Aloha Friday at my workplace, without success; and I believe that one of the three best things about Israeli government is that they don't wear ties.
It might be an unexpected circumstance that almost the only churches I have seen where people actually dress well for services are the black churches over in the Nard. Sunday Best still means something. Is it a mere happenstance that they also deliver the most spiritual, Bible-based, personal messages to and from God?
Don't even get me started on all the other things that are wrong with most churches . . . electric guitars, desperate efforts to fund-raise, terminal do-goodism, failure to preach faith . . . curses, you got me started.
I have to work now. Don't you have anything to do?
Posted by: The Little Coach at April 10, 2007 02:25 PM