So I was driving by an old abandoned hardware store which was recently converted to yet another pop-up church with some vague name that implies no particular religious affiliation: “Strong Church!” or “Victory Love” or “Holiness Happiness”. This particular pop-up church was just letting out, a bit late in the morning, I’m assuming because they start later than normal rather than they were all wrapped up in the holy spirit for the past 3 hours, because the crowd walking out didn’t really look like early risers or what I consider typical church-goers. They looked like they were coming out of dive bar rather than God’s House. Lots of t-shirts and blue jeans. Some bikers leathers (but no helmets because Jesus Loves Me). Sweat pants here and there. I was dressed better than the entire congregation, and I was only on my way to the grocery and hadn’t even brushed my hair yet. Many of them looked like they hadn’t returned HOME yet from last night’s ode to joy.
I guess the message they send out is “do whatever the hell you want so long as you crawl in here late Sunday morning, tell Jesus you’re sorry and ask forgiveness, and start the week with a clean slate. Last night’s whoring and fighting and drinking and child beating is all forgiven, once you give it up to Jesus. And the bars don’t open until 1:00 on Sundays, so for you with the shaky-shakes, head on down to the basement to meet with Brother Brown after the service and he’ll set you up with some of his grandmother’s prescription medication to get you through the next few hours. Don’t forget to tithe on your way out of it doesn’t count and you burn in hell.”