Day 1: They know I'm a newb.
Today, I went to church.
The look on my cat's face when I told him where I was headed this morning.
My family last set foot in a church during the third Punic War, so it's safe to say I'm no regular. (Honest version: I played in a Baptist orchestra during high school; before that, when I was ten, my parents valiantly tried to Do The Right Thing by making us go. Voilà! My entire religious history summed up in a single sentence!)
But those two brief experiences still taught me how to behave in church, so I felt prepared (and extremely flattered!) when the Troll and his family invited me to attend services with them.
By my logic, the best way to ensure I didn't make them shamefully hang their heads was to wear appropriate clothing. A dress was ironed. Hose were purchased. Heels were unearthed from beneath my bed. That was how my mother and grandmother always dressed for church, so I just took their cue.
But when I got inside the sanctuary, denim shorts and tank tops (complete with visible bra straps) surrounded me. Mathematically, I was overdressed by the power of ten. The Troll tried to say don't worry, you can't be overdressed, but I had just hiked-in heels-across a huge dirt parking lot, a small grass slope, a paved parking lot, and a covered area where they keep golf carts for people who can't make the walk. That's how big this place is. So yes, ladies, you CAN be overdressed. Take note.
The service was very nice but much more multimedia-centric than the days of yore. For instance, there were two large screens, one hanging on either side of the stage. They displayed song lyrics (so you could sing along with the live musical numbers, all of which were accompanied with a backup choir and live band), relevant Bible verses, and a music video-esque overview of the kids' summer camp. One thing that hasn't changed? The offering plate. It's still passed around, and I still feel guilty when I don't have cash to put in it. Fortunately, neither did the Troll or his family, so we passed it along until it reached someone who actually had a paper dollar.
After the service ended, we all had lunch together at one of their favorite Chinese restaurants. Did I mention his family is 100% legitimately cool? Well, they are, and they seem comfortable enough around me to just chat about whatever.
And next time? No more heels or dresses. Otherwise, I will feel kind of like this dog:
The look on my cat's face when I told him where I was headed this morning.
My family last set foot in a church during the third Punic War, so it's safe to say I'm no regular. (Honest version: I played in a Baptist orchestra during high school; before that, when I was ten, my parents valiantly tried to Do The Right Thing by making us go. Voilà! My entire religious history summed up in a single sentence!)
But those two brief experiences still taught me how to behave in church, so I felt prepared (and extremely flattered!) when the Troll and his family invited me to attend services with them.
By my logic, the best way to ensure I didn't make them shamefully hang their heads was to wear appropriate clothing. A dress was ironed. Hose were purchased. Heels were unearthed from beneath my bed. That was how my mother and grandmother always dressed for church, so I just took their cue.
But when I got inside the sanctuary, denim shorts and tank tops (complete with visible bra straps) surrounded me. Mathematically, I was overdressed by the power of ten. The Troll tried to say don't worry, you can't be overdressed, but I had just hiked-in heels-across a huge dirt parking lot, a small grass slope, a paved parking lot, and a covered area where they keep golf carts for people who can't make the walk. That's how big this place is. So yes, ladies, you CAN be overdressed. Take note.
The service was very nice but much more multimedia-centric than the days of yore. For instance, there were two large screens, one hanging on either side of the stage. They displayed song lyrics (so you could sing along with the live musical numbers, all of which were accompanied with a backup choir and live band), relevant Bible verses, and a music video-esque overview of the kids' summer camp. One thing that hasn't changed? The offering plate. It's still passed around, and I still feel guilty when I don't have cash to put in it. Fortunately, neither did the Troll or his family, so we passed it along until it reached someone who actually had a paper dollar.
After the service ended, we all had lunch together at one of their favorite Chinese restaurants. Did I mention his family is 100% legitimately cool? Well, they are, and they seem comfortable enough around me to just chat about whatever.
And next time? No more heels or dresses. Otherwise, I will feel kind of like this dog: