Andrew Goes to Church 


I went to my nephew's dedication yesterday. 

I had debated with myself for over two weeks about going. Firstly, I thought you only dedicated buildings, love songs, and boxing matches... not children; something seems wrong with that. What's more, I'm not in any way, shape, or form a believer.

I can already hear my computer: *Ding* You've got hate mail. Well the hell with it: it's my blog so I'll write what I want. I certainly hope I don't alienate any of the faithful, though. Know off the bat that as far as I'm concerned, you've got your beliefs, I've got mine, and that's all cool and groovy with me. I'm not out to change anyone's mind about anything...

... but I seem to have to face religion (specifically Christianity) up in Canada far more than I ever did in the states. I initially thought that it had to do with my new proximity to my in-laws: my mother-in-law is in the "inner sanctum" of her church (don't know what the position is called exactly, but you get the idea: she's a higher-up) and my brother-in-law and his wife are both "born again" (and also the pair who are having the dedication). See, I imagine quite a few of you reading this are already thinking, "oh, well... born again. Say no more!" As far as I'm concerned, that's more the real deal than the "Christianity Lite" most of the rest of the western world seems to go for... the glorified social club variety. If you're going to believe, don't half-ass it. I mean, we're talking about the word of god here, right? If you believe it really is the word of god, you'd probably want to take it pretty seriously... kinda like your life depended on it, maybe. If not, what are you wasting your time for? Anyway, I digress.

I really think that it's not just my in-laws. Back in my book-selling days (the week before last), I was shocked at the number of Catholic schools up here--they're everywhere. I've heard people not my in-laws talk about functions at their church... and not people I would ever have pegged as church-goers. I've made light-hearted religious jokes and comments and felt the icy-cold stare of disapproval afterwards. For instance last week while I was playing in the 8 ball league, a drop of water somehow landed right in the middle of the tip of my cue... you know, the chalky bit at the end. It looked a bit like blood, so I ran around the bar saying that my cue had stigmata. It didn't go over well.

Yes, Canada seems to be far more churchy than the U.S... or at least Los Angeles. Hey, perhaps it's a prairie thing. I imagine there must be more cynics in urbans areas. Smog'll do that to you. I mean, how can you believe in something "up there" when you can't even see more than a few hundred yards in front of you "down here"?

Anyway, I was conflicted about this dedication thing. I didn't want to be disrespectful--as I said up front: believe what you want; that's fine with me. (Just, ya know... keep it to yourself if you don't mind.) Also, the fact that I really like my "born again" in-laws confused the issue further. They're very nice (obviously god-fearing) people who, ironically, I agree with on more issues than not. At the same time, though, how could I possibly attend a ceremony I fundamentally disagree with even though I'd be the only family absentee if I didn't go? I don't attend pagan animal sacrifices, voodoo rituals, Catholic mass, I don't believe in female circumcision or stoning people to death, and I haven't made the trip to Mecca either. Ritualism is ritualism however many gods you pray to or what you have to wear while you do it. (A brief observation, here: Polytheism=loose cotton. Monotheism=poorly cut polyester.)

Now I didn't even know if the procedure was going to be a baptism-type thing or what, but it didn't matter--I'm opposed to the entire Chrstian-Judeo premise. The fact that I look at the world around me and think "nope, can't just be an accident" lends no more support to a several thousand year old, mythology-based belief structure than it does to the idea that a few particles collided one day and bingo: primordial ooze that would one day produce Britney Spears, Happy Meals, and toxic waste. (That actually supports the "colliding particle" theory 'cause they're all made of the same stuff.) Mankind has been batting around the "where did we come from" question since we were still hitting ourselves in the head with rocks... and you know, an awful lot of theories have been put forward in that time. And you know what else? A lot of them made more sense than angels, water to wine, walking on water, other assorted water tricks, and a benevolent, all-powerful, heavenly being who created us with a need for rational explanation and then said, "neener neener, you're not gettin' one. Just go with me on this."

I think the atheists are just as screwy, too. The fact is that there's no clear evidence either way--whether you choose benevolent creator, cosmic accident, or even the more current 'tweener explanation intelligent design, you've got to make a pretty massive leap of faith. Thunder might well be the anger of the gods, or it might just be static discharge in the atmosphere. We've moved on. The earth might be the centre of the universe, or it could just be part of a larger system of planets and galaxies. We've moved on. When are we going to move past one of the world's few remaining superstitions and start thinking rationally and for ourselves? Okay... enough already. I think there was a guy called Jesus, and I think he really shook some stuff up. I also think that everyone grabbed the wrong end of his stick and are still flogging themselves with it.

The service started out with songs. There's one particular lyric I remember that read: "O beautiful cross, bid me come and die." I was feeling uplifted already. This was followed by church announcements about bake sales, upcoming functions, etc. which was then followed by the youth leader who was very excited and all smiles. "We've got the best teens in the world, here!" he shouted which was followed by whoops and hollers. The kids had made stools for the seniors 'cause, apparently, seniors find it difficult to produce their own stools. Who knew. It was a nice gesture. After that, more songs and then finally, the sermon.

For those of you who have seen "Little Miss Sunshine", think back to Greg Kinnear's delivery when he's talking about the "12 Steps to Success" in the opening of the movie. I swear he modelled his character after this preacher. (For those of you who haven't seen the film, go and see it!) I almost laughed openly when he said "creataaaar". (No, I didn't misspell that--it's phonetic.) Why do they all have the same slick, used-car salesman mannerisms and push-and-pull vocal undulations? The whole thing was like a scene out of a Christopher Guest film ("Waiting for Guffman", "Best in Show", "A Mighty Wind") with its disingenuous sincerity and overly emotive, overly passionate over-enthusiasm. During the sermon, there was a period of communal prayer for those in attendance who needed to be prayed for and, to be honest, they really did look like they needed it. The phrase "walking wounded" springs instantly to mind. Towards the end of the sermon, my son was possessed by the Holy Spirit and needed to be removed to an antechamber. I took him out to the lobby where we observed the remaining few minutes from a safe and objective distance. When they sang a cappella at the end, I was sure they were about to don their robes and sacrifice something. Isn't that what follows most incantations? The song and its performance had that drony, secret society quality to it.

Later in the day, my brother-in-law voiced his disapproval of the sermon which was about the apostle Andrew and Jesus's admonition to his disciples to become "fishers of men"--your standard proselytising stuff. (The exact phrase the preacher kept using was "encouraging them to Christ".) The funny thing is that having been raised a fundamentalist Christian and being quite familiar with the bible, the content of the sermon hadn't struck me as being at all unusual. There are two primary tenets of Christianity: believing Jesus was the son of god who died for our sins and spreading his word. What's wrong with grabbing one of those core beliefs and beating your congregation over the head with it? My brother-in-law's objection was that the preacher knew there would be a largish group of non-church-going family members there for the dedication and that the preacher shouldn't have taken the opportunity to try to increase his client base. But that's what Christians do! I present as Exhibit A: South America, Exhibit B: Central America, and Exhibit C, Africa. Speaking of which...

... one last note on my church experience: We were given some handouts on our way in. One of them was advertising a Christian Ugandan childrens' choir which is making its way across Canada and will be singing and dancing at their church in November. There was one line in the pamphlet that really struck me as odd:

"Uganadan children are well-known for their dancing abilities and musical talents."

Is it just me, or does that sound all wrong and outdated? I thought the attitude that "coloured folk sure can sing and dance" went out with the Jim Crow laws. Perhaps I'm just over-sensitive to racial overtones because I met my first, card-carrying, certified racist a couple of weeks ago--born and bred in Alberta... white Alberta. I'd never met anyone like him before. He told me that his problem with the KKK is that "they're a bunch of disorganised hillbillies", and then continued, "someone needs to show them how to do it right." My wife is insistent that the guy is just an aberration--not the norm up here--and that I'm reading far too much into the comment about Ugandan kids. I don't know; I'll let you be the judge.

At any rate, I decided in the end to go to the dedication after realising that I'd definitely go if my in-laws were buddhist or taoist or hindi because that would be interesting and probably unusual. Clearly it had more to do with a bias against Christianity... although not Christians! Some of my best friends are Christians. Some of my best friends are gay, too, although they tend not to be Christians (although generally speaking, they can sing and dance as well as Ugandans). As I sat there in the church, I started feeling guilty for all of my deliberations. My in-laws know how I feel about religion, and yet they still wanted me to be at an event involving one of the most personal things in their lives--their faith. The ceremony was about them and their son, not me, and frankly, I ended up feeling quite honoured to have been included.

... and you know, I'll probably go and see those Ugandan kids. I hear they sure can sing and dance! 

Posted: Mon - October 23, 2006 at 10:22 AM          


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