A couple of months prior, on my way home from visiting Montgomery Community Church, I passed a van that read Church of God of Prophecy. I had never heard of that denomination before, but I knew I had to make it a stop on my experiment.
I have six quick points about Cincinnati Church of God of Prophecy, and then I’m going to let you guys out early.
1) There were less than twenty people at the service. If you’re a guest, those numbers are intimidating. Everyone in the room knew I was a visitor. I kept waiting to get called out by the pastor, but thankfully, that didn’t happen. Everyone was white. Most were older. There were a couple of kids and one woman around my age. At one point during the service, the pastor said, “Church quality has little to do with church size.” That may be true, but it’s also a convenient ideology when your church size is hovering around twenty members.
2) Why do pastors of small churches with names like “Church of God of Prophecy” always look exactly the way you would picture a pastor from a small church with the name “Church of God of Prophecy” looking? I don’t mean that as an insult. It’s just odd how they all seem to fit the TBN mold. Almost like it was programmed from birth.
3) Perhaps my favorite Church Experiment moment yet …
Before I walked into the building, I sat in my car and literally asked God, “What am I doing here?” It was one of those moments (I have had a handful of them along the way) where I questioned the point of this whole experiment. I wanted to turn around and go home.
Once inside, those feeling remained. The small congregation and lackluster worship music weren’t helping my mood. I asked God to show up during the service. I asked him to show me why I ended up at the Church of God of Prophecy. And that’s when it happened.
I stood behind an older gentleman. Probably in his late 50’s or early 60’s. During worship, his wife showed up. He stepped into the aisle to let her pass, and when he did, he noticed me. Being a church veteran, he also realized I was a guest. He looked at me and extended his right arm in a welcoming gesture. As I reached for his hand to shake it, my eyes glanced down and watched his right hand clench into a fist. I wish you could have read my mind as I realized he was greeting me with a fist bump. I am pretty sure I blacked out, but I have vague memories of actually giving this guy a fist bump (and no, I didn’t blow it up).
I laughed for five minutes. I know this will sound strange, but I truly believe it was God’s way of saying, “I’m here.” God wanted to deliver a message, and he used a language I could understand. After that, I relaxed and enjoyed the pastor’s message.
4) Speaking of the pastor’s message, he spoke about our response to God’s offer of grace through Jesus. Pretty good stuff overall. He asked one question that really stood out. “Has following Jesus been the top priority in your life?”
I thought about my answer as I sat there. Honestly, I think I can say yes … overall. I think about Jesus, write about Jesus, talk about Jesus, and try to pursue Jesus as a general rule. But practically, I’m not sure. I have lots of other priorities that divide my focus. Sports, writing, hanging out with friends, watching movies, reading fiction, etcetera.
It’s not that any of that stuff is evil, but they can all become distractions. I expend so much energy during Bengals games that I am exhausted once the clock expires. I drop so many f-bombs on Sunday afternoons that NASA could use them to blow ice off of the moon. Not my finest, most Christ-centered moments. (P.S. Who Dey.)
5) This was the first week I left a church service early. I simply couldn’t deal with what happened after the pastor’s message. I got nervous early in the service when the pastor asked us to place our hands on the person sitting next to us and pray for them. Then, he started praying intensely. Then, everyone in the room started praying in tongues. I had no one sitting next to me, so I just sat there and trembled in fear.
During the altar call, things got wild. First, a couple of people went forward for prayer. Then, the pastor started calling members of the congregation up front by name. Soon, everyone started going up front. On her way, one woman stopped and asked me if I wanted to join them. I said, “No, thank you,” and stayed in my seat. A few minutes later, I was basically the only person left in the pews. Up front, I witnessed a spiritual cluster(f-bomb). The pastor was screaming, people were praying in tongues, and the whole scene was out of control.
I couldn’t deal with it. So, I left.
6) Here’s the good news. Over the past few weeks, God has been solidifying my beliefs about faith. I have to thank Bobbyb and Christian for asking some good questions on my blog that helped me clarify my thoughts on the Bible. For the first time ever, I can finally articulate my thoughts about scripture.
The same thing happened Sunday concerning my thoughts on prayer, healing, speaking in tongues, etcetera.
Some of it is real; some of it is fake. I think we can all agree with that. For a long time, I have obsessed over figuring out which is which so I could call out the phonies. What a waste of energy.
I experienced what happened at the Church of God of Prophecy as lunacy, but maybe it was legit. Who the heck am I to question their genuineness? That kinda makes me an arrogant jerk.
At the same time, I don’t need to flop around on the ground and speak in tongues to experience God in profound ways. For the first time, I’m secure with that. My insecurities were causing me to question and criticize anyone who experienced God in charismatic ways. I tore them down because I didn’t understand them. How immature of me.
If the right opportunity presents itself, I’ll practice opening myself up to the Holy Spirit in a safe context with people I trust. Until then, I’m going to stop blasting people willing to take those leaps of faith. Sure, some of them are faking. And others are subconsciously pretending in order to fit in. But that doesn’t mean God isn’t showing up.
Maybe when we become more secure with ourselves, we can stop judging everyone else. At least, that’s what I have been experiencing over the past few weeks, and it feels very freeing.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
I have six quick points about Cincinnati Church of God of Prophecy, and then I’m going to let you guys out early.
1) There were less than twenty people at the service. If you’re a guest, those numbers are intimidating. Everyone in the room knew I was a visitor. I kept waiting to get called out by the pastor, but thankfully, that didn’t happen. Everyone was white. Most were older. There were a couple of kids and one woman around my age. At one point during the service, the pastor said, “Church quality has little to do with church size.” That may be true, but it’s also a convenient ideology when your church size is hovering around twenty members.
2) Why do pastors of small churches with names like “Church of God of Prophecy” always look exactly the way you would picture a pastor from a small church with the name “Church of God of Prophecy” looking? I don’t mean that as an insult. It’s just odd how they all seem to fit the TBN mold. Almost like it was programmed from birth.
3) Perhaps my favorite Church Experiment moment yet …
Before I walked into the building, I sat in my car and literally asked God, “What am I doing here?” It was one of those moments (I have had a handful of them along the way) where I questioned the point of this whole experiment. I wanted to turn around and go home.
Once inside, those feeling remained. The small congregation and lackluster worship music weren’t helping my mood. I asked God to show up during the service. I asked him to show me why I ended up at the Church of God of Prophecy. And that’s when it happened.
I stood behind an older gentleman. Probably in his late 50’s or early 60’s. During worship, his wife showed up. He stepped into the aisle to let her pass, and when he did, he noticed me. Being a church veteran, he also realized I was a guest. He looked at me and extended his right arm in a welcoming gesture. As I reached for his hand to shake it, my eyes glanced down and watched his right hand clench into a fist. I wish you could have read my mind as I realized he was greeting me with a fist bump. I am pretty sure I blacked out, but I have vague memories of actually giving this guy a fist bump (and no, I didn’t blow it up).
I laughed for five minutes. I know this will sound strange, but I truly believe it was God’s way of saying, “I’m here.” God wanted to deliver a message, and he used a language I could understand. After that, I relaxed and enjoyed the pastor’s message.
4) Speaking of the pastor’s message, he spoke about our response to God’s offer of grace through Jesus. Pretty good stuff overall. He asked one question that really stood out. “Has following Jesus been the top priority in your life?”
I thought about my answer as I sat there. Honestly, I think I can say yes … overall. I think about Jesus, write about Jesus, talk about Jesus, and try to pursue Jesus as a general rule. But practically, I’m not sure. I have lots of other priorities that divide my focus. Sports, writing, hanging out with friends, watching movies, reading fiction, etcetera.
It’s not that any of that stuff is evil, but they can all become distractions. I expend so much energy during Bengals games that I am exhausted once the clock expires. I drop so many f-bombs on Sunday afternoons that NASA could use them to blow ice off of the moon. Not my finest, most Christ-centered moments. (P.S. Who Dey.)
5) This was the first week I left a church service early. I simply couldn’t deal with what happened after the pastor’s message. I got nervous early in the service when the pastor asked us to place our hands on the person sitting next to us and pray for them. Then, he started praying intensely. Then, everyone in the room started praying in tongues. I had no one sitting next to me, so I just sat there and trembled in fear.
During the altar call, things got wild. First, a couple of people went forward for prayer. Then, the pastor started calling members of the congregation up front by name. Soon, everyone started going up front. On her way, one woman stopped and asked me if I wanted to join them. I said, “No, thank you,” and stayed in my seat. A few minutes later, I was basically the only person left in the pews. Up front, I witnessed a spiritual cluster(f-bomb). The pastor was screaming, people were praying in tongues, and the whole scene was out of control.
I couldn’t deal with it. So, I left.
6) Here’s the good news. Over the past few weeks, God has been solidifying my beliefs about faith. I have to thank Bobbyb and Christian for asking some good questions on my blog that helped me clarify my thoughts on the Bible. For the first time ever, I can finally articulate my thoughts about scripture.
The same thing happened Sunday concerning my thoughts on prayer, healing, speaking in tongues, etcetera.
Some of it is real; some of it is fake. I think we can all agree with that. For a long time, I have obsessed over figuring out which is which so I could call out the phonies. What a waste of energy.
I experienced what happened at the Church of God of Prophecy as lunacy, but maybe it was legit. Who the heck am I to question their genuineness? That kinda makes me an arrogant jerk.
At the same time, I don’t need to flop around on the ground and speak in tongues to experience God in profound ways. For the first time, I’m secure with that. My insecurities were causing me to question and criticize anyone who experienced God in charismatic ways. I tore them down because I didn’t understand them. How immature of me.
If the right opportunity presents itself, I’ll practice opening myself up to the Holy Spirit in a safe context with people I trust. Until then, I’m going to stop blasting people willing to take those leaps of faith. Sure, some of them are faking. And others are subconsciously pretending in order to fit in. But that doesn’t mean God isn’t showing up.
Maybe when we become more secure with ourselves, we can stop judging everyone else. At least, that’s what I have been experiencing over the past few weeks, and it feels very freeing.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
