What have I gotten myself into?
I began this journey having no idea what to expect. In fact, my biggest fear was showing up to church every week and experiencing nothing. The last thing anyone wants to read is fifty-two weeks of church reviews.
I had lots of questions Sunday morning. What to wear? What to take with me? Where to sit? Should I take notes or observe? Hide in the balcony or actively participate? Critique or experience? In the end, I decided to just show up and see what happened.
Solid Rock Church is best known for the huge statue of Touchdown Jesus that faces Interstate 75 just north of Cincinnati. There is also a pretty famous song called Big Butter Jesus about the statue. I have passed the church at least a hundred times, mocked the ridiculousness of Touchdown Jesus every time, and thought it would be a good place to begin my experiment.
I was right.
The church itself was fairly normal. I was greeted at the front door by a nice man who shook my hand. I quickly noticed the church was about half white and half black, with most people in their mid-thirties to late fifties. The service lasted about eighty minutes, including twenty-five minutes of worship up front, a couple of songs in the middle of the service, and one at the end. They had two offerings—a normal one after worship and a “missionary offering” near the end of the service. The pastor was very loud and dynamic, and his message was actually pretty good. But those are insignificant details. This is what I experienced:
Religious people give me the heebie jeebies. They just do. I’m not talking about Christians. I’m talking about religious people. I don’t like it when people are too friendly in church. It seems fake. It was weird when some creepy guy with a mullet shook my hand (whom I overheard telling people he was a “dynamic preacher who only knew how to tell people they aren’t living the right way.” He then said he was about to start “foot-stompin’ up in here.”)
I was sweating a lot while I was sitting (I took a seat in the third row because I wanted to be close to all of the action) because almost everyone was creeping me out. During the service, the pastor made us turn to our neighbor and say random phrases like, “I am free,” or, “All I need is the Word.” It was awkward.
I actually liked the music. I didn’t like the choice of songs or the over-the-top production value, but I think “seeker-friendly” churches miss out on a lot when their congregations stand and sway to a rock concert. Solid Rock had a choir, and the music was loud and interactive. If I didn’t spend so much time watching the woman in front of me sobbing hysterically, speaking in tongues, and gyrating around on the floor, I think I would have actually been able to worship freely.
I didn’t like how four women (they were obviously ringers) came to the front of the room to worship for the cameras. They were really getting into it—singing, dancing, raising their hands, shouting—but it seemed to be for production value. Maybe it was also meant to loosen other people up, but it seemed fake and forced.
The pastor used the story of Shammah from 2 Samuel 23 to help guide his message. He incorporated a really good Bible story to encourage people to leave their past behind and step into a better New Year. The pastor did get a running start at one point and leap off the stage (good way to twist an ankle), but aside from the theatrics, I was actually moved by his words. It didn’t feel manipulative or trite. I believed the pastor wanted his people to be free from sin because he cared about their lives. Or maybe he was a really good actor. There were two offerings, after all.
I have never attended such an “interactive” service before. People shouted out words as the pastor spoke. And there was one dude sitting off to his left that randomly shouted phrases like, “Tell ‘em ‘bout it, pastor!” and, “Here we go now!” It was quite interesting.
My three least favorite parts of the experience:
1) During the announcements, they made first-time visitors raise their hands (one section at a time) to get an information packet about the church. Ummm … awkward. I raised my hand (there were two other new people brave enough to join me), and for the rest of the service, it was like they drew a big sign on my forehead that read, “Treat me like a freak.” During the closing prayer time (which you will read more about in five seconds), the woman next to me asked if I was doing okay with everything, which was nice of her, but it made me feel even more awkward.
2) At the end of the service, there was an altar call inviting everyone down front to pray and/or become a Christian. They even had some dude roaming the aisles to identify people who needed to go forward for prayer. Keep in mind, I already had the target on my chest because I was new. This dude walks up and stands right next to me. Literally, like six inches away. (I was in an aisle seat.) Then, I hear him praying in tongues, and my body temperature rises like two degrees (and not because the Holy Spirit was showing up). If he would have tried to make me go up front, we would have thrown down. Wrestling some dude to the ground would have been a good start to my experiment.
3) The very last thing the pastor did was lead a prayer of healing for some woman in the congregation. I believe God can do anything. He can heal anyone he wants whenever he wants. But I also believe most religious people fake miraculous healings in order to … well … who knows why someone would fake that. Money? To look holy? To impress people? Either way, everyone went nuts for two minutes while he prayed, and I assume nothing changed in the woman’s life. I know, I am quite an optimist, aren’t I?
My two favorite parts of the experience:
1) Saturday night, I was already starting to worry about my church for next week. Solid Rock seemed like an obvious starting point, but I had no idea where to go next. Before the service began, I overheard the woman behind me say she was visiting from a different church. I turned around and asked where she was from. She told me and asked where I normally attended. I tried to explain my quest, and she practically begged me to attend her church sometime. Little did she know, I would be there the following Sunday. It was an Assembly of God church, and yeah, you’ll read about that interesting adventure soon. What are the odds I would run into that woman?
2) The pastor made this joke: What do John the Baptist and Winnie the Pooh have in common? They have the same middle name.
Priceless.
Overall, Solid Rock Church wasn’t as crazy as I assumed from the Touchdown Jesus statue out front. I met some very nice people while I was there. Of course, there were some incredibly weird people as well. But there are weird people everywhere, right? Been to the mall lately? Freak show! I am sure most churches spent January 4, 2009, talking about a fresh start for the New Year, but it was good to hear a Godly perspective as I began 2009.
One down. Fifty-one more to go. God help me.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
I began this journey having no idea what to expect. In fact, my biggest fear was showing up to church every week and experiencing nothing. The last thing anyone wants to read is fifty-two weeks of church reviews.
I had lots of questions Sunday morning. What to wear? What to take with me? Where to sit? Should I take notes or observe? Hide in the balcony or actively participate? Critique or experience? In the end, I decided to just show up and see what happened.
Solid Rock Church is best known for the huge statue of Touchdown Jesus that faces Interstate 75 just north of Cincinnati. There is also a pretty famous song called Big Butter Jesus about the statue. I have passed the church at least a hundred times, mocked the ridiculousness of Touchdown Jesus every time, and thought it would be a good place to begin my experiment.
I was right.
The church itself was fairly normal. I was greeted at the front door by a nice man who shook my hand. I quickly noticed the church was about half white and half black, with most people in their mid-thirties to late fifties. The service lasted about eighty minutes, including twenty-five minutes of worship up front, a couple of songs in the middle of the service, and one at the end. They had two offerings—a normal one after worship and a “missionary offering” near the end of the service. The pastor was very loud and dynamic, and his message was actually pretty good. But those are insignificant details. This is what I experienced:
Religious people give me the heebie jeebies. They just do. I’m not talking about Christians. I’m talking about religious people. I don’t like it when people are too friendly in church. It seems fake. It was weird when some creepy guy with a mullet shook my hand (whom I overheard telling people he was a “dynamic preacher who only knew how to tell people they aren’t living the right way.” He then said he was about to start “foot-stompin’ up in here.”)
I was sweating a lot while I was sitting (I took a seat in the third row because I wanted to be close to all of the action) because almost everyone was creeping me out. During the service, the pastor made us turn to our neighbor and say random phrases like, “I am free,” or, “All I need is the Word.” It was awkward.
I actually liked the music. I didn’t like the choice of songs or the over-the-top production value, but I think “seeker-friendly” churches miss out on a lot when their congregations stand and sway to a rock concert. Solid Rock had a choir, and the music was loud and interactive. If I didn’t spend so much time watching the woman in front of me sobbing hysterically, speaking in tongues, and gyrating around on the floor, I think I would have actually been able to worship freely.
I didn’t like how four women (they were obviously ringers) came to the front of the room to worship for the cameras. They were really getting into it—singing, dancing, raising their hands, shouting—but it seemed to be for production value. Maybe it was also meant to loosen other people up, but it seemed fake and forced.
The pastor used the story of Shammah from 2 Samuel 23 to help guide his message. He incorporated a really good Bible story to encourage people to leave their past behind and step into a better New Year. The pastor did get a running start at one point and leap off the stage (good way to twist an ankle), but aside from the theatrics, I was actually moved by his words. It didn’t feel manipulative or trite. I believed the pastor wanted his people to be free from sin because he cared about their lives. Or maybe he was a really good actor. There were two offerings, after all.
I have never attended such an “interactive” service before. People shouted out words as the pastor spoke. And there was one dude sitting off to his left that randomly shouted phrases like, “Tell ‘em ‘bout it, pastor!” and, “Here we go now!” It was quite interesting.
My three least favorite parts of the experience:
1) During the announcements, they made first-time visitors raise their hands (one section at a time) to get an information packet about the church. Ummm … awkward. I raised my hand (there were two other new people brave enough to join me), and for the rest of the service, it was like they drew a big sign on my forehead that read, “Treat me like a freak.” During the closing prayer time (which you will read more about in five seconds), the woman next to me asked if I was doing okay with everything, which was nice of her, but it made me feel even more awkward.
2) At the end of the service, there was an altar call inviting everyone down front to pray and/or become a Christian. They even had some dude roaming the aisles to identify people who needed to go forward for prayer. Keep in mind, I already had the target on my chest because I was new. This dude walks up and stands right next to me. Literally, like six inches away. (I was in an aisle seat.) Then, I hear him praying in tongues, and my body temperature rises like two degrees (and not because the Holy Spirit was showing up). If he would have tried to make me go up front, we would have thrown down. Wrestling some dude to the ground would have been a good start to my experiment.
3) The very last thing the pastor did was lead a prayer of healing for some woman in the congregation. I believe God can do anything. He can heal anyone he wants whenever he wants. But I also believe most religious people fake miraculous healings in order to … well … who knows why someone would fake that. Money? To look holy? To impress people? Either way, everyone went nuts for two minutes while he prayed, and I assume nothing changed in the woman’s life. I know, I am quite an optimist, aren’t I?
My two favorite parts of the experience:
1) Saturday night, I was already starting to worry about my church for next week. Solid Rock seemed like an obvious starting point, but I had no idea where to go next. Before the service began, I overheard the woman behind me say she was visiting from a different church. I turned around and asked where she was from. She told me and asked where I normally attended. I tried to explain my quest, and she practically begged me to attend her church sometime. Little did she know, I would be there the following Sunday. It was an Assembly of God church, and yeah, you’ll read about that interesting adventure soon. What are the odds I would run into that woman?
2) The pastor made this joke: What do John the Baptist and Winnie the Pooh have in common? They have the same middle name.
Priceless.
Overall, Solid Rock Church wasn’t as crazy as I assumed from the Touchdown Jesus statue out front. I met some very nice people while I was there. Of course, there were some incredibly weird people as well. But there are weird people everywhere, right? Been to the mall lately? Freak show! I am sure most churches spent January 4, 2009, talking about a fresh start for the New Year, but it was good to hear a Godly perspective as I began 2009.
One down. Fifty-one more to go. God help me.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
