by Forest Grene

Created on: March 07, 2009

Church is weird. I know this to be true. I have gone almost every week and sometimes twice a week for 32 years.That is the gospel truth. The only difference between church then and now is that instead of writing grocery lists during the sermon, we text on our phones.Oh, and the other difference is they pay big bucks for a worship pastor to lead us in singing: we still do it badly, that does not change.

Remember the days when the pastor led the singing? Vocal supremacy was not a criteria for becoming a pastor. Having a wife who played the piano was a criteria though.If a pastors wife did not play the piano and the pastor actually sneaked in to preach, the wife was immediately ostracized.The other criteria for being a pastor (my report) is to have one or two oppositional children, who would dutifully sit and scowl in the front, where they were placed so the pastor and piano-playing wife could babysit. One of the few jobs where babysitting is not required in order to work.

I love most of the people I have chosen to get to know in the churches I have attended.One particular pastor's wife encouraged me greatly as a youth, in music. She was instrumental in some of the activities I do today in music.B ut, she also ran a group twice a week that was aerobics to christian music. I am not kidding. It was called Praiser-cise. Really? Yeah...really.Actually we would not have needed it if we had just stopped attending all those potlucks, eating jello with marshcmellows and buns with real butter.

It was pretty hell and brimstone.I ran a youth drop in on Fridays called The Fire Escape (good one) and we had all the kids who hung out at 7-11 come, eat and play pool. We tried to have "talks" but this never really went down. Sometimes those kids would come into the church and replace the oppositional pastor's kids in the front row. Well, this was a sight to see...displaced pastor's kids being upstaged by street kids. Those street kids would fake wave their arms and sort of mock the congregation who loved them anyways and felt that they were being missionaries in their own church.It was odd. The fact that they were their was exciting. The fact that they were their to mock was humilaiting.How do you kick someone out of church?For waving their arms in the air? Singing? Enjoying themsleves.Like I said: church is weird.

One of the most extraordinary memories of my father in the church comes with an irony I will never forget. We had a beautiful golden plum tree in the parking lot of our pentecostal church. Dad would pick those plums and take them home. He finally had enough to make a good ole' batch of wine. He called it "Pentecostal Plum."

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