A friend of mine, Sherri, took me. She used to work at Toddler Bank, but quit a month or so ago to do landscaping work. She likes gardening and growing things. She and I had talked about church on her last day, and she said she'd take me some time. Yesterday, she did.
Neither of us really planned it to be Easter Sunday. Just worked out that way. I wore a dress and nice shoes, just in case, but Sherri and her daughter wore jeans. No one was much dressed up in the crowd. But the pastor and the singers were in suits and nice dresses.
It was a modern building, with a big open area for the pews, which were fairly comfy padded benches, and a sort of raised "stage" occupying one corner of the room. When we walked in, there were eight or nine singers on the stage, along with an electric guitarist and perhaps one or two other musicians; I didn't make close note of them. They were singing, I don't know, Christian rock, I guess. The lyrics were simple and on the repetitious side, but the music was pleasant. For ... just a little while, I knew how Madden must feel.
They had big screens to either side of the stage, where the lyrics to the songs, and references to the Bible verses, and other stuff were displayed, probably using Powerpoint or some version thereof. It wasn't that big a church, though -- maybe the size of a small theatre. We sat near the back and had no trouble seeing the pastor.
He spoke on John 20, mostly. [Correct verse no. courtesy of prester_scott That's the chapter where Mary Magdalene discovers that Jesus's body is missing, and then that he's returned. And where doubting Thomas puts his hand to the holes. I thought of strangess; she was the first person to tell me that anecdote.
There were some awkward moments: they had collection plates brought by, with little envelopes to put money, or, I guess, checks in. I wanted to give something but didn't notice the little envelopes until afterwards, and I felt stupid jamming cash into the dish full of discreet little envelopes. Isn't that a silly thing to be self-conscious about? I still feel stupid over it. I sang along, some, but felt self-conscious over that, too. But it was a mostly white church, and everyone who was singing sang quietly. The Powerpoint display was nice in that respect. Made it easier to follow the music, and when I missed which chapter and verse the pastor had referred to, I could check it on the screen.
I enjoyed it, actually. Funny. I'm self-conscious about that, too. Seems to be the order of the day. Sherri offered to take me again, if I wanted. I felt a lot better about going with someone. Not as scary as going alone. But I feel bad about making her come all the way to pick me up and drop me off. Maybe I'll try to get up the ambition and courage to go to one of the churches in walking distance of my apartment, next time.