Again, Southeast Christian Church

Third trip to Southeast Christian Church yesterday, first without P & first with Q & O. 1 Neither of them were too sure about this deal, as they rarely go to any church other than St. Williams with mom and St. James with me, but I really thought that they would like the music, so I asked and they acceded.  On a contingent basis.  I wanted to make sure that Q, especially, was comfortable, since she tends to be less elastic than O, so before the service began I told her that we could leave early or anytime that she wanted to leave.  She immediately said she wanted to leave, but when I suggested that we at least listen to one song she agreed.

She continued to tell me that we were going to leave early during the run-up to the start of the service, but once the first song started she seemed interested.  About halfway through the service she said something to me that I didn't hear, so I put my head down to her lips and asked her what she'd said.  She blew me away when she said, "I appreciate you bringing me to church."  I don't think she has ever said anything like that before.  And then I started to hear her voice, small and hesitant at first, during the hymns.  Or songs, I'm not sure that they're hymns.  

We stayed until the end of the service.  Even after a bunch of "I've got to leave and beat the crowd to the parking lot" people streamed past us.  

So there's that.

It's funny how my attitude towards Southeast Christian has changed so completely.  I used to laugh when people called it "Seven Flags Over Jesus."  I used to nod when people talked about how it was just a place people went to so that they could make contacts to use in business.  And I used to think the very idea of a church so big was ludicrous and wrong.

Then I took the little Js to the Shine Dance last year, and I was astounded at how many of the members of the congregation showed up to help out, and about how joyous they were.  And I could only guess at how much money had been laid out for this party for special needs kids, most of whom probably didn't even go to the church.  It was about as pure a Christian act as I've personally witnessed, and it moved me greatly.  

It didn't turn me stark raving Christian or anything like that.  But it did make me reevaluate myself in terms of how quickly I'd judged the place even though I'd never been there.

Now I've been there three times, and I've always (1) been greeted cheerfully by multiple people, (2) felt comfortable--not like an intruder, as I've felt in many of the churches I've visited, & (3) been moved by the sermon.

The sermon this time out particularly surprised me.  It was very challenging.  The basic message was, You shouldn't sit on your ass while people close by are suffering.  And it had barbs.  I didn't agree with everything that the minister had to say by any means . . .  and I thought that there were some internal contradictions, logical by-passes, etc. . . . but for the most part I thought it was a powerful message, and one that was actually very Christian in the best sense of the term.  (As in something that Jesus Christ wouldn't mind being said.  I don't think many of the sermons I've heard in the past half a century could pass that muster.)

Also, there were three or four blind people with dogs who came to the service.  Q found this quite interesting, and this morning she said to her brother, "Some people are blind in church."  Which I found (1) poetic & even elegant, (2) pretty interesting on a metaphysical level.  If I could just have her language, I think I could write a truly great novel.

I think we'll be going back to Southeast Christian church.  


1   Funny, I was just proofreading this thing prior to hitting the Publish button (I occasionally do that, which may be difficult to believe . . . but you could help out if you'd holler when you catch a typo) when I realized that these letters are in alphabetical sequence . . . which is just an interesting thing, don't think it qualifies as coincidence, much less synchronicity.  But I've always referred to Jacqueline and Joe as Q and O here, respectively . . . initially because I was incognito, and here just because I felt like it.  And P is Pat, my friend.  So it's not like I engineered it or anything.  Oh, shit . . . this is only interesting to me, isn't it?  Sorry.  Shutting up now.

色彩を持たない多崎つくると、彼の巡礼の年 by 村上 春樹

Only two more chapters of 色彩を持たない多崎つくると、彼の巡礼の年 to go now, so I'm guessing one more day / bike ride will do it.  It hit me today that one of the strange things about this novel is the way that the dialogue is written.  It seems very awkward at times, and almost non-sequitor-ish in the exchanges.  Characters say things and I think, "Why would anyone say that?"  Which kind of makes it both less and more realistic simultaneously.  Less for the obvious reason, but more because people really do speak that way.  Mostly because they usually don't listen to each other.  

But I'm enjoying this story quite a bit.  The New York Times Book Review Review said that the audio-book version was excellent because of the way the narrator reads the novel--without emotion, distant--and I'm glad that I took the advice . . . and that Scribd had the audio-book available.  

One of the things that resonates with me is the idea that most of what we do in this life is bullshit.  Not that  村上 春樹 comes right out and says that, but I think it's implied a number of times.  Like when Tsukuru is thinking about people commuting, using as much as three hours of each day to get to and from their workplaces.  And how that was probably not only lost, wasted time, but that it probably also eroded the person's energy for other things as well.  So much of life is going from one room to another room, talking about shit that we don't even vaguely care about, etc.  So what happens when you strip all of that bullshit away?  What's left?

I'm working on it.

Biking / Scribd Audiobook Coincidence Number 4

My current bouting book (thanks, Scribd) is Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami, which I am enjoying immensely.  (I'm sorry to say that I have yet to finish a Murakami book.  I was reading The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and really getting into it, but it got to something so gross and disgusting that I put it down and never picked it up again.)  Today's "reading" included a description of a character's cell phone ring as being a snippet of Elvis's "Viva Las Vegas."  There was also a bit of chat about the movie / song accompanying that detail.  Three hours later I walked into Barnes and Noble and headed for the magazine racks.  As I settled into position, two of the employees walked by, and one said to the other, "I love Elvis.  "Viva Las Vegas" is my jam."