Sunday, October 23, 2016

What Sunday Means to me

I was born in Church, Mom and Dad dragging me every Sunday, regardless of any appreciation I may have had of any Divinity outside of bed.

I grew to love it over time because ... the girls were hot, opportunities to make out were bountiful and we even went on mission trips to Florida and assumed Missionary positions.

In College, I went to other Churches ... meaning not-Southern-Baptist ... breaking the first of the Seven Deadly Sins ... but I checked out the Methodists, the Presbyterians and these really cook alternative services hosted by Christian seniors where the girls were hot, opportunities to make out were bountiful and Missionary positions were assumed without having to travel.

Then Guy Sayles ... er, I mean God ... calls me on the phone and talks me into going to Seminary where I inexpiably became a "Professional Christian" ... which is a great gig if you can get it.

It was a Southern Baptist Church but we didn't act it and in no time at all, Jeff Street was the cool place to worship among the hip crowd where the girls were hot, making out was plentiful and positions other than Missionary were assumed.

It didn't last because I opted to use real wine for Communion instead of Welch's Grape Juice ... the second time I broke a Deadly Sin ... and I was encouraged to take my ministry elsewhere.

Afterwards I tried to attend Church but once you've been a "Professional Christian" (paid to love everyone while asking everyone else to do it for free), it's hard to go back again.

Then I quit and went to Beach on Sunday mornings.

I found myself thinking more about God, praying intensely and thinking of others beside the Ocean than I ever did behind stained glass or a chunk of wood on a stage.

On the beach of course, the girls are hot, making out is plentiful and you see positions you could never have imagined were possible.

This remains my preferred method of worship.

But this little Church that meets in a Bar asked Sarah and I to join the band, kicked us out after it got pretty successful, before asking me to be the "Un-Professional-mostly Christian" in charge.

That was two years ago.

The whole service is built around live music, stories instead of sermons, food and if you want something besides Welch's Grape Juice ... we don't judge.

It's pretty cool because the Beach is right outside ... the girls are hot, making out is plentiful and the positions are beyond definition.

But every single Sunday, something special happens boarding on Holiness and while we all may sleepily drag our asses in ... we leave lighter and more at peace than before.

That's what Sunday means to me.