A View of Some Holy Bad Ideas

I don't worship. I've written about that fact many times before. Still, that doesn't mean I don't shake my head and wonder what's wrong with people when I come across something that's disrespectful of religion.

For example, some people here in Detroit are upset because today is Opening Day for the Tigers. Some of the Motor City faithful had to choose between religious obligation or a Ball Park Frank. I didn't see this as particularly disrespectful. (Scroll down to #7 for the reference if you click on the preceeding link.) Opening Days come and go and a baseball season has, like, a gazilliondy games in a season. If you are truly faithful, then you go to church. If you aren't or are willing to ask for absolution, then you go to the game and attend an all night Easter Vigil or something. Pretty easy choice to me, right?

Some are still trying to find, shall I say, a blessed medium between the world ways and the Word. And it's not pretty. I mean, who thought turning the Passion of Christ into Twitter tweets was a good idea? Trinity Church, an Episcopal parish on Wall Street in lower Manhattan is offering this and a web version of the Stations of the Cross. Yet another reason to hate those folks on Wall Street, don't you think? This story outlines all sorts of ways churches are exploring creative Good Friday worship options. Not only are there Holy Twitterers out there, there's an interactive Stations of the Cross in downtown Santa Cruz, for those who may not be online.

If you are online, however, and too busy to go to church today, Easter Sunday, or any other Sunday, you can now rest easy. Discover Magazine's Discoblog (the name is kind of a sin in itself) discusses a monthly prayer subscription service available from Information Age Prayer. For a mere $4.95 a month, much less than your average collection plate donation or tithe, you can have your computer pray for you. The program offers four denominations - Catholic, Jewish, Protestant, or Muslim - and uses text-to-speech technology to say prayers in roughly the "same volume and speed as the average praying person." They also offer a variety of subscriptions covering the gamut from daily prayers to prayers for economic stability. No word on whether you have to make sure your Blackberry faces east or what happens to one's mortal soul if you lapse in subscription payments and get cut off from automated salvation.

Kind of makes a baseball game on Good Friday look harmless, doesn't it?

More later, after I quote what my Dad would've probably said about all of this: "Jesus wept."

UPDATE: One of my fondest memories as a child was going to see a musical called, "Your Arms Too Short To Box With God" with my family. The play, which came to town annually, was very entertaining. It told the story of Jesus's crucifixion and resurrection based on the book of Matthew. This was back in the days when African-American musical theater meant shows like "Timbuktu!," "Purlie," or "For Colored Girls...," not "Beauty Shop," "Madea Goes to Jail." Anyway, the part of "Arms" that stood out the most for me was when Jesus rose from the dead, and the resurrection portrayed with a joyous song called "Didn't I Tell You?" One year, we went with a neighbor who - upon seeing Jesus (who was played by a very attractive and well built dancer) come out on stage dancing regally - she exclaimed, "Oh my goodness! Jesus got muscles everywhere!" "Arms" is sadly no longer being produced, but Greater Grace Temple, a local megachurch is trying to fill the void left behind with its own passion play. "The Whip, Hammer, and Cross" has music, elaborate costumes, live animals, and an unfortunate title. I wonder if its Jesus has muscles everywhere, too?

A View of the Sacred and Profane

Put those idle hands to use - click on the picture and check out "Lio"

This post is all about heaven, hell and temptation.

After work today, I decided to make a quick stop at one of my favorite stores before going home to browse a bit and possibly use a coupon I got in the mail. (Temptation got the best of me even thought I know I didn't need to buy anything.) When I got to the store, it was closed - the strip mall was experiencing a power outage, so I was saved from the urge to do a bad but stylish thing. I decided it was best to do the right thing and head home. I hopped on the freeway and as I was speeding along (giving in to the temptation of speed - I had to keep up with the flow of traffic), an unusual sight caught my eye.

At the foot of a very busy entrance ramp, at a very busy junction of a local freeway, there was a man working on making sure all the afternoon's commuters made it into heaven. From what I could tell he was a younger man, wearing dark slouchy pants, an oversized polo shirt layered over an equally oversized t-shirt, a baseball cap tilted to the side, and a very large dark jacket of some sort. He was also holding a very large handmade picket sign that read, "JESUS IS LORD."

"What the hell....?" I said out loud, trying not to cause an accident as I strained to reach for my purse to get my cell phone.

The cars speeding by didn't seem to faze him. He rocked slightly back and forth, as though he were trying to keep himself warm in the cool air. He clutched the wooden handle of his sign close to his chest, looking straight ahead facing the cars coming onto the freeway. I couldn't make out his facial features or what expression he had on his face, but judging by the way he stood without flinching, I'd imagine he was pretty content and stoic. I was the exact opposite. As I sped past, I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

All I could think was I hope some careless or speeding driver doesn't send that young man to his maker. Reaching for my cell phone, I decided to play guardian angel to the young evangelist and placed a call to 911. I got right through to a Detroit Police dispatcher and told her what I saw.

"Hold on, I'll put you through to Michigan State Police," she said. I thought I'd go right to another operator. Not so much.

"Thank you for calling the Michigan State Police. If this is an emergency, please remain on the line and an operator will be with you shortly." That's right. I was in voice mail hell. One minute passed. "Thank you for holding. Someone will be with you shortly." Two minutes passed. By now, I'm more than two miles away from the man trying to save souls. What if this were a life or death emergency? Finally, someone answered and I made my report. "Okay. We'll send someone out," the officer said once I was done, then he hung up.

With that, all I could do was shake my head and hope that the young man wasn't hurt. Then I wondered what would happen to him and his sign. Would the officers dispatched to the scene treat him with respect? What would they do to the sign? It was much too big to fit into a squad car? Would they try to fold it and put it in their trunk? Hell, would an officer show up at all? Did anyone else see him? Did they think of his safety and call the police, or did they just look at his message and take it at face value?

It was one of the few times I wished I believed in heaven, salvation, or prayer. My grandmother used to say God watches over old folks, monkeys, and fools. Who looks over those saving souls at the foot of a freeway entrance ramp? Or the nonbeliever who, speeding past and minding her business, sees that person and can only think of saving the prosthelytizer from himself?

I wish I knew the answer to that question. More later.