Competitive Religion

Multiple choirs of birds are blasting Hymnsof Praise in fierce competition with the other creating one giant cacophony of noise.

It's a like the churches meeting today at the same time where they'll all compete for God's attention at the same time by singing, praying loudly, dropping coins in gold plates and a lot of talking.

Being God and all, everything's heard at the same time and it must come across like a lot of noise without much action.

It's mostly religious competition.

It reminds of the old joke that when the Baptist Church was singing "Will there by any stars in my crown" the Methodist Church next door was singing, "No Not One."

It's funny because it's mostly true ... most churches are businesses competing for customers, investments, publicity and "Yard of the Month" awards.

I know, I know ... your church is different!

Yours is the only one that meets your specific needs and you enjoy it!

At the same time, every other church in the world wants you ... your time, talent, money, voice and help winning "Yard of the Month."

Yesterday Samuel Adams, who plays damn good live music on the island whenever he gets around to it, and I took a walk on the Pier.

It was a beautiful sunny day with blue skies, lots of people enjoying the beach and Davy the drummer was fishing.

Sam wanted to talk about Church, specifically Bar Church which he founded and I'm an occasional participant.

Bar Church doesn't have a building.

We borrow a bar and there's no chance in Hell we'll ever win "Yard of the Month."

It doesn't proselytize either because nobody really cares who comes!

Whoever does show up hears good rock music glorifying God, eats breakfast if they want, listens to a low key sermon if they want or walk outside to smoke if they don't.

On this Palm Sunday, I'm participating ... meaning I'm preaching and playing in the Band again.

Sarah's not so sure any of this yet and is non-committal.

I hope she comes but everybody will want her to sing and there's always the chance if she took control of the matter Bar Church could win "Yard of the Month."

Regardless, it strikes me that Jesus sent some Disciples to borrow a Donkey so he could ride into Jerusalem all those years ago today to do what God wanted.

Bar Church borrows a building to do what God wants.

There's something magnificently illogical about both!

The sun bursts through the branches of the Palm Tree with the oyster eyes, coconut bra sans the grass skirt ... and the imagery makes me lough out loud.

Back in the Good Graces

God told Samuel Adams to tell us we need to join the band again.

Samuel Adams plays damn good live music on Tybee Island whenever he gets around to it and is the founder of Bar Church.

Bar Church is exactly what it sounds like ... a church that meets in a Bar ... has breakfast for Communion ... smokers are welcomed ... flip flops are encouraged ... cussing is allowed ... sinners find an unpretentious community of fellow strugglers ... the pious feel out of place ... and the music beats the shit out of Hymns in most "Steeples".

Sarah and I spent a the better part of a year in Bar Church as members of the Band and we had a righteous and Holy time doing it.

We helped get Sean McNally and the demon possessed guitar player Stephen Groose in the band.

There was a lot of media coverage too.

We got popular so Bar Church had to move a bigger place.

As an ordained Southern Baptist minister, once paid to believe, I'm very distrustful of churches that need bigger places but we relocated from a tiny bar to a vast one with two pool tables!

Everything was going fine until one Sunday morning we all hit the wrong chords at the same time.

Now I can bear witness to many terrible things occurring during worship ... a Maid of Honor faints and falls backwards knocking one Bridesmaid after another down like dominos ... a wedding that caught on fire during a severe thunderstorm ... naked homeless men conducting hostile takeovers of the Baptismal Pool ... a young man called by God to the ministry being ordained with his zipper down while keeling in front of the congregation ... and thousands of really putrid sermons that made you throw up a little and choking it back down.

I seen lots of bad things in church.

But that day in Bar Church God told Sam to play one thing and Sam didn't tell us so we all played something different and let me tell you it sounded like the Devil really did go down to Georgia!

Right there in the middle of the service, Sam just beat his head against the microphone in front of his face.

That afternoon God told Sam to kick us out of the band ... well, Sarah, Sean and I ... but not the satanic guitar player Stephen because God still needed him.

We were cool with it.

It was time to downsize anyway.

Now God is evidently calling again which is almost always inconvenient when you're pretty happy with your Sunday morning routines, ethics, belief system, choices of music and the joys of sex on Sundays.

But it's hard to say no to God.

Or to Sam.

We're back in good graces again.

Dammit!