Louisville Church Tour Part 3 of 8 - Wash Your Hands, It's Suffer Time
Hope Lutheran Church
December 4, 2005
8:15 AM
I woke up pretty sick on Sunday morning and I did NOT want to get out of my warm bed and step into the chilly 25-degree air waiting for me outside. I went to bed with a sore throat and when I woke up it was even worse, but I didn’t go to church last week ‘cause my Dad was in town and I didn’t want to miss two weeks in a row - so off I went.
Hope Lutheran church is situated in the neighborhood adjacent to mine. It looks more like a big house or a small school than a church except for the steeple on top of the sanctuary. As I drove into the parking lot I could see folks mingling in the lobby just outside the sanctuary doors. Seemed everyone was all gussied up too in fancy dresses and suits, which caused me to roll my eyes and say “Fucking great,” under my breath as I opened the door.
The first person to great me was a young man who introduced himself as Pastor Lange. Nice, right outta the gate I’m spotted. He gives me a warm welcome and kindly asks me to fill out the guest register. He said this pretty loud too, and I thought for a moment he might slap a nametag on me or hang a little sign around my neck.
I made my way into the sanctuary and was handed a small pamphlet by the usher. “Fuck yeah,” I thought to myself. “Gotta read this thing before we get started, so I’m not caught unawares.” The room was small and yellow and felt like it was set up temporarily while work was done on the permanent sanctuary, however this was it. Only seven rows of pews with the traditional aisle down the middle and the traditional four walls and traditional rectangular shape.
A large cross hung above the alter with a banners on both sides. There were some candles and chalices and pitchers and room-service trays sitting on a cloth-covered table in the back. A chair - a lectern - more candles - your basic alter. I was early, so I took my now customary seat in the back left corner of the church. I thumbed through the pamphlet and to my dismay it seemed like there was going to be a lot of standing and sitting, and shout and shout out by the pastor and flock. “Ugh, what have I gotten myself into,” I thought to myself. “I’d much rather be sleeping.”
After taking a closer look at the pamphlet I noticed on page two a few paragraphs about the sacrament. Pretty much it said that guests were excluded from taking part in Jesus’ supper unless they were members of some other Lutheran congregation. That was fine with me. For a few moments I thought about being ignorant and just going up to see what would happen, but I’m not doing this to get in trouble or try to get kicked out, so I just left it alone.
Pretty soon the service began and we sang the Advent Gathering Song (words and music by James J. Chepponis) The Cantor (pastor) sings the refrain once then the congregation sings the refrain continuously as the cantor sings the verses. Well guess what? Fucking Pastor Lange could sing. I was pretty proud of him. There has been music at all of the services so far, but this was kind of magical. Pastor Lange is pretty young - maybe 25-30, so it was odd to see him up there in the long robe and long blue vest. I mean; these are the clothes of an old guy. I suppose somewhere down the line the Lutherans must have split from the Catholics, ‘cause this whole thing seemed very Catholic - very formal - very official.
The dude could sing though and that was cool. What wasn’t cool was that the song went on way too long. There were only so many times I could sing, “Come, come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.” We needed some more variety in our part, but oh well. There wasn’t to be much variety or spontaneity at all on this day. It was kind of like going to school and the teacher just reading out of the textbook. Every word that was spoken was in the pamphlet I received at the door.
Next Pastor Lange delivered the invocation and then we went on to confess our sins. This was very creepy. Again, everything is right out of the pamphlet - I mean even the pastor is reading out of it, although he tried to make it look more official by holding it in a bigger black notebook - much like a schoolboy would do to hide his comic book. Anyhow, he starts the confession:
All flesh is grass, and all it’s beauty is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades when the breath of the Lord blows on it; surely the people are grass.
Then everybody replies:
The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God will stand forever.
The creepy thing is the folk in the church sounded like they were chanting. This ghoulish monotone sound fills the air - very weird. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be safe, but then I see Pastor Lange and I know I’m going to be okay. He smiles sweetly at me. He wants my ass. (Okay, just wanted to see if you were asleep, dear reader)
So we finished confessing and we told the lord we were sinful and we knew he was coming in judgment and we have lived in darkness and Jesus Christ can we please sit down and Amen. Let’s sing the gathering song 60 more times.
Next they lit the candles and I realized that the reason this was so scripted is because it was the second service of the advent - a time to prepare for the second coming of Jesus. Pastor Lange then read a short prayer and told us to be seated. “Hallefuckinglujah.”
We sat down and then the Pastor read from Isaiah. This was pretty much the same stuff we said during the confession. We did some singing as he spoke, however there was no written music in the pamphlet, so if you didn’t know the song you just had to wing it. Then he read some more from the bible, Peter this time, and we sang some more and then we stood and sang and then he read from Mark and then we sang and then we sat down and then he said like two fucking words and we had to stand up again and then it was time for the sermon. We all read the Nicene Creed and then finally, sweet Jesus, the pastor got down to some extemporaneous speaking. For the love of god, thank you.
Wait, before I get to the sermon, I forgot to mention that kids are totally welcome in the sanctuary, but in the pamphlet it also mentions that there is a playroom if they get fidgety. Well, no one seemed to read that because throughout the whole service there were kids yelling and screaming and coloring and, and, well being kids. At first I was kind of happy about this because it broke up the monotony of the whole service, but when it was time for the sermon it was pretty annoying.
Anyway, the sermon was funny ‘cause Pastor Lange was answering some of my questions. “So why is it that we do this same shit over and over again every year at Christmas time?” Okay, I though to myself, maybe every Sunday isn’t this lame and scripted. He went on to talk about the coming of the lord and how it really is a big deal and how we need to be prepared and yadda, yadda, yadda. Not the message I was looking for. At the other two churches there was a progressive message for living. This one was just total Religious BS. Didn’t tell us much how to live or to be good or kind, this was total worship. Blah. I was kinda bummed.
Next they passed around the offering plate and I did bring five bucks with me this time so that was cool. I woulda totally felt like a dick ‘cause the place was so small and I really felt the eyes on my when it came my way. We stood again and chanted some more and I was looking for a way out. I even thought for a moment that I would offer to take the kids in the playroom, ‘cause some Moms and Dads were, but then I thought they would think I was some kind of child molester so I didn’t.
Sit down, stand up, pray, sing, silent prayer, sit down, ugh - okay, time for the sacrament.
Again, per page two of the pamphlet, I was not to partake in the cake, so I just chilled. More singing, standing and sitting and harsh words of the slaughter of the lamb and then a finally little prayer of preparation:
Lord, I am not worthy to be a guest at your holy table. But you are the friend of sinners, and you will not cast me out. This bread is your body, which bore my sins upon the tree. This wine is your blood, which purifies me from all guilt. At your invitation, I come rejoicing. Receive me, my Savior. Amen
Below the prayer in the pamphlet is another note reminding guests not to try and join the regular members.
Okay, so now I was a little confused. The good folks at Hope Lutheran didn’t want me to share in the sacrament because according to the pamphlet they wanted to study the bible with me first to make sure I was Kosher. However, according to God, even though I was not worthy to be a guest at his table, he would not cast me out. God invited me, but these people didn’t. What’s up with that?
More standing and sitting and singing and prayer and thankfully it was over. As I made my way out into the lobby some of the church elders wanted to talk to me and they gave me some materials and asked if I wanted to stay for bible study but I just wanted to leave and that’s what I did.
So, aside from the Pastor having a pretty good singing voice, this visit was really a drag - totally scripted and formal and exclusive. As boring and this report. Funny but yesterday I got a card from Pastor Lange thanking me for joining them for service on Sunday. It said I was loved unconditionally, but he didn’t mention the conditions for eating Christ’s body and drinking his blood. Maybe I’ll send him a little note asking why they trumped God’s invitation.
Nah, maybe I won’t.
December 4, 2005
8:15 AM
I woke up pretty sick on Sunday morning and I did NOT want to get out of my warm bed and step into the chilly 25-degree air waiting for me outside. I went to bed with a sore throat and when I woke up it was even worse, but I didn’t go to church last week ‘cause my Dad was in town and I didn’t want to miss two weeks in a row - so off I went.
Hope Lutheran church is situated in the neighborhood adjacent to mine. It looks more like a big house or a small school than a church except for the steeple on top of the sanctuary. As I drove into the parking lot I could see folks mingling in the lobby just outside the sanctuary doors. Seemed everyone was all gussied up too in fancy dresses and suits, which caused me to roll my eyes and say “Fucking great,” under my breath as I opened the door.
The first person to great me was a young man who introduced himself as Pastor Lange. Nice, right outta the gate I’m spotted. He gives me a warm welcome and kindly asks me to fill out the guest register. He said this pretty loud too, and I thought for a moment he might slap a nametag on me or hang a little sign around my neck.
I made my way into the sanctuary and was handed a small pamphlet by the usher. “Fuck yeah,” I thought to myself. “Gotta read this thing before we get started, so I’m not caught unawares.” The room was small and yellow and felt like it was set up temporarily while work was done on the permanent sanctuary, however this was it. Only seven rows of pews with the traditional aisle down the middle and the traditional four walls and traditional rectangular shape.
A large cross hung above the alter with a banners on both sides. There were some candles and chalices and pitchers and room-service trays sitting on a cloth-covered table in the back. A chair - a lectern - more candles - your basic alter. I was early, so I took my now customary seat in the back left corner of the church. I thumbed through the pamphlet and to my dismay it seemed like there was going to be a lot of standing and sitting, and shout and shout out by the pastor and flock. “Ugh, what have I gotten myself into,” I thought to myself. “I’d much rather be sleeping.”
After taking a closer look at the pamphlet I noticed on page two a few paragraphs about the sacrament. Pretty much it said that guests were excluded from taking part in Jesus’ supper unless they were members of some other Lutheran congregation. That was fine with me. For a few moments I thought about being ignorant and just going up to see what would happen, but I’m not doing this to get in trouble or try to get kicked out, so I just left it alone.
Pretty soon the service began and we sang the Advent Gathering Song (words and music by James J. Chepponis) The Cantor (pastor) sings the refrain once then the congregation sings the refrain continuously as the cantor sings the verses. Well guess what? Fucking Pastor Lange could sing. I was pretty proud of him. There has been music at all of the services so far, but this was kind of magical. Pastor Lange is pretty young - maybe 25-30, so it was odd to see him up there in the long robe and long blue vest. I mean; these are the clothes of an old guy. I suppose somewhere down the line the Lutherans must have split from the Catholics, ‘cause this whole thing seemed very Catholic - very formal - very official.
The dude could sing though and that was cool. What wasn’t cool was that the song went on way too long. There were only so many times I could sing, “Come, come, Emmanuel. Come, Emmanuel.” We needed some more variety in our part, but oh well. There wasn’t to be much variety or spontaneity at all on this day. It was kind of like going to school and the teacher just reading out of the textbook. Every word that was spoken was in the pamphlet I received at the door.
Next Pastor Lange delivered the invocation and then we went on to confess our sins. This was very creepy. Again, everything is right out of the pamphlet - I mean even the pastor is reading out of it, although he tried to make it look more official by holding it in a bigger black notebook - much like a schoolboy would do to hide his comic book. Anyhow, he starts the confession:
All flesh is grass, and all it’s beauty is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades when the breath of the Lord blows on it; surely the people are grass.
Then everybody replies:
The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God will stand forever.
The creepy thing is the folk in the church sounded like they were chanting. This ghoulish monotone sound fills the air - very weird. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be safe, but then I see Pastor Lange and I know I’m going to be okay. He smiles sweetly at me. He wants my ass. (Okay, just wanted to see if you were asleep, dear reader)
So we finished confessing and we told the lord we were sinful and we knew he was coming in judgment and we have lived in darkness and Jesus Christ can we please sit down and Amen. Let’s sing the gathering song 60 more times.
Next they lit the candles and I realized that the reason this was so scripted is because it was the second service of the advent - a time to prepare for the second coming of Jesus. Pastor Lange then read a short prayer and told us to be seated. “Hallefuckinglujah.”
We sat down and then the Pastor read from Isaiah. This was pretty much the same stuff we said during the confession. We did some singing as he spoke, however there was no written music in the pamphlet, so if you didn’t know the song you just had to wing it. Then he read some more from the bible, Peter this time, and we sang some more and then we stood and sang and then he read from Mark and then we sang and then we sat down and then he said like two fucking words and we had to stand up again and then it was time for the sermon. We all read the Nicene Creed and then finally, sweet Jesus, the pastor got down to some extemporaneous speaking. For the love of god, thank you.
Wait, before I get to the sermon, I forgot to mention that kids are totally welcome in the sanctuary, but in the pamphlet it also mentions that there is a playroom if they get fidgety. Well, no one seemed to read that because throughout the whole service there were kids yelling and screaming and coloring and, and, well being kids. At first I was kind of happy about this because it broke up the monotony of the whole service, but when it was time for the sermon it was pretty annoying.
Anyway, the sermon was funny ‘cause Pastor Lange was answering some of my questions. “So why is it that we do this same shit over and over again every year at Christmas time?” Okay, I though to myself, maybe every Sunday isn’t this lame and scripted. He went on to talk about the coming of the lord and how it really is a big deal and how we need to be prepared and yadda, yadda, yadda. Not the message I was looking for. At the other two churches there was a progressive message for living. This one was just total Religious BS. Didn’t tell us much how to live or to be good or kind, this was total worship. Blah. I was kinda bummed.
Next they passed around the offering plate and I did bring five bucks with me this time so that was cool. I woulda totally felt like a dick ‘cause the place was so small and I really felt the eyes on my when it came my way. We stood again and chanted some more and I was looking for a way out. I even thought for a moment that I would offer to take the kids in the playroom, ‘cause some Moms and Dads were, but then I thought they would think I was some kind of child molester so I didn’t.
Sit down, stand up, pray, sing, silent prayer, sit down, ugh - okay, time for the sacrament.
Again, per page two of the pamphlet, I was not to partake in the cake, so I just chilled. More singing, standing and sitting and harsh words of the slaughter of the lamb and then a finally little prayer of preparation:
Lord, I am not worthy to be a guest at your holy table. But you are the friend of sinners, and you will not cast me out. This bread is your body, which bore my sins upon the tree. This wine is your blood, which purifies me from all guilt. At your invitation, I come rejoicing. Receive me, my Savior. Amen
Below the prayer in the pamphlet is another note reminding guests not to try and join the regular members.
Okay, so now I was a little confused. The good folks at Hope Lutheran didn’t want me to share in the sacrament because according to the pamphlet they wanted to study the bible with me first to make sure I was Kosher. However, according to God, even though I was not worthy to be a guest at his table, he would not cast me out. God invited me, but these people didn’t. What’s up with that?
More standing and sitting and singing and prayer and thankfully it was over. As I made my way out into the lobby some of the church elders wanted to talk to me and they gave me some materials and asked if I wanted to stay for bible study but I just wanted to leave and that’s what I did.
So, aside from the Pastor having a pretty good singing voice, this visit was really a drag - totally scripted and formal and exclusive. As boring and this report. Funny but yesterday I got a card from Pastor Lange thanking me for joining them for service on Sunday. It said I was loved unconditionally, but he didn’t mention the conditions for eating Christ’s body and drinking his blood. Maybe I’ll send him a little note asking why they trumped God’s invitation.
Nah, maybe I won’t.