The incredible adventures of one girl looking for a church
They call it Evangel, it's on campus, it's 9am Sundays. Which makes it not going on too late to eat my Sunday away, but not too early that I have to induce insomnia so that I can get to it.
When I walked past the first time, they were singing a song I knew, which made me nostalgic. So I walked in, thought I'd take a look. Standing for 45 minutes singing and clapping. Well, ok. Then was the sermon. An old old Australian, with the thickest of accent. I only knew he made a joke when (only) his wife behind me laughed loudly. And he was there to cast out the demons of sickness. They trouped upto him, back pain, neck pain, depression, those sort of things. I am dead curious if these people are healed (this was 3 weeks or so ago). But I feel it might seem in bad taste if I asked them.
I stayed on for the service, more because I am trying to (in parellel to finding a church), have interesting experiences. This was one. It was super when one of the 'healed' lurched backward to be caught by ushers. Drama, drama, drama, at its best, and in real life too! And for once, it had absolutely nothing to do with me.
After it was done, I did try to walk away very quickly. Yet, they were on to me, within moments, I had a swarm of pastors and elders 'ministering' to me. They asked me if I was saved, and if I wanted to pray the reborn prayer there and then (in case a vehicle hit me, terrorist bombed me, n.korea nucleated me) on the way home.
I was so alarmed, I split coffee on the coat of the pastor's husband. But I did offer to pay the dry-cleaning bill, although it was a very very small stain, and his coat was dirty anyway. (she's not the one who thanked God for stopping the rain to do her laundry). When I got away, I was so grateful for the first time, that perth is so lonely, which means I didn't have to deal with any more humans for the next 24 hours.
The Sunday after that, well I couldn't make it. See I got into making this really interesting pasta salad, that it seemed like a shame to leave it for more ecumenical entertainment.
The Sunday after that? Hmm, let me seeee...
I made it this Sunday. It was sort of ok being told off by the pastor lady for not performing the actions with the songs (I take Jesus from the well, and stamp out Satan - work out those actions). I sat down for the rest of the singing after that, feeling all the while that I was making a terrible etiquette error in the house of God. I sort of sat through the lady who testified that she had a dream that all the pastors were chopping out roots with their swords (potatoes? no spades handy? must have taken a long time). It was also ok, when the other lady said she dreamed about tongues. tongs? It got a little bit uncomfortable when the pastor lady vilified the guy who was an executive and went to america to hear a christian seminar instead of coming to this church and being humble the way he was supposed to be. I started to sweat when she looked pointedly at me and told the congregation that if we didn't write down all she said in our exercise book, we were suffering from the sin of pride.
I was now looking for the next song (she kept singing songs during the sermon, getting us all up too. And the music girls were taken off guard, since they didn't plan for any of this) to run away. I was too afraid, that if I got up to go, while the rest were sitting down, they'd all surround me, and cast out demons from me.
And I did make a quick get away. That is, other than getting my bag strap caught in the chair, and overturning it, as I ran out.
When I walked past the first time, they were singing a song I knew, which made me nostalgic. So I walked in, thought I'd take a look. Standing for 45 minutes singing and clapping. Well, ok. Then was the sermon. An old old Australian, with the thickest of accent. I only knew he made a joke when (only) his wife behind me laughed loudly. And he was there to cast out the demons of sickness. They trouped upto him, back pain, neck pain, depression, those sort of things. I am dead curious if these people are healed (this was 3 weeks or so ago). But I feel it might seem in bad taste if I asked them.
I stayed on for the service, more because I am trying to (in parellel to finding a church), have interesting experiences. This was one. It was super when one of the 'healed' lurched backward to be caught by ushers. Drama, drama, drama, at its best, and in real life too! And for once, it had absolutely nothing to do with me.
After it was done, I did try to walk away very quickly. Yet, they were on to me, within moments, I had a swarm of pastors and elders 'ministering' to me. They asked me if I was saved, and if I wanted to pray the reborn prayer there and then (in case a vehicle hit me, terrorist bombed me, n.korea nucleated me) on the way home.
I was so alarmed, I split coffee on the coat of the pastor's husband. But I did offer to pay the dry-cleaning bill, although it was a very very small stain, and his coat was dirty anyway. (she's not the one who thanked God for stopping the rain to do her laundry). When I got away, I was so grateful for the first time, that perth is so lonely, which means I didn't have to deal with any more humans for the next 24 hours.
The Sunday after that, well I couldn't make it. See I got into making this really interesting pasta salad, that it seemed like a shame to leave it for more ecumenical entertainment.
The Sunday after that? Hmm, let me seeee...
I made it this Sunday. It was sort of ok being told off by the pastor lady for not performing the actions with the songs (I take Jesus from the well, and stamp out Satan - work out those actions). I sat down for the rest of the singing after that, feeling all the while that I was making a terrible etiquette error in the house of God. I sort of sat through the lady who testified that she had a dream that all the pastors were chopping out roots with their swords (potatoes? no spades handy? must have taken a long time). It was also ok, when the other lady said she dreamed about tongues. tongs? It got a little bit uncomfortable when the pastor lady vilified the guy who was an executive and went to america to hear a christian seminar instead of coming to this church and being humble the way he was supposed to be. I started to sweat when she looked pointedly at me and told the congregation that if we didn't write down all she said in our exercise book, we were suffering from the sin of pride.
I was now looking for the next song (she kept singing songs during the sermon, getting us all up too. And the music girls were taken off guard, since they didn't plan for any of this) to run away. I was too afraid, that if I got up to go, while the rest were sitting down, they'd all surround me, and cast out demons from me.
And I did make a quick get away. That is, other than getting my bag strap caught in the chair, and overturning it, as I ran out.
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