I'm a self described heathen. As you can tell from most of my posts, I'm going to hell. I've accepted that. Jesus and I have been locked into a love/hate roller coaster ride for most of my life that I have come to expect. At this point, I wouldn't have it any other way. But tonight I decided I would go to a Good Friday service. As someone who should spontaneously combust when just thinking about a church, I should know better. Why would I do this? I'm not even sure...
I was sure God was giving me a sign NOT to go, considering he threw every obstacle in my way. For some reason I chose to ignore it and go, even if I was going to be 15 minutes late. That's okay. I just missed the prayer, and who wants to be around for that boring mess?
I've never been to an Episcopal church before. I'm not talking about the ones where they embrace my heathenhood and like to be different and unique. I'm talking about the high churchy ones. The ones that are so catholicy, you wonder why they left the Pope in the first place. Boy was I in for a treat!
I walked into a big beautiful cathedral. I couldn't have decorated it better myself. Ayesha could, but for me, it was perfect. There was low lighting and everyone was just sitting there seemingly depressed. I immediately felt that "I'm at a funeral" feeling. But looking back, we are talking about the funeral of Jesus. I should have been more respectful. How come no one told me that Good Friday for Episcopal church was all doom and gloom?
I sat down in the back which I want to call the SHS (Standard Heathen Seating) section. I waited there awkwardly until something happened. Then God spoke to us.... and he sounded like Darth Vader.
I've never freaked out so much in my life. Where in the world was James Earl Jones? And why didn't anyone tell me he was the voice of God? I always thought that was Morgan Freeman's job. Well it turns out some guy was reading passages from the Bible that Jesus spoke. Even though I knew this, every time he spoke, I readied my light saber for battle.
Anyway, the service was SOOOO CREEPY! It was so dark and emo, I was surprised that ushers didn't hand out razor blades for us to cut ourselves for Jesus. The choir didn't help the situation. Don't get me wrong; they sounded beautiful. But they also sounded like creepy monks, and with emo feeling in the air, all I wanted to do was write depressing poetry and paint my finger nails black.
I wish my mind didn't wander. While the service was nice, it certainly didn't keep my attention. I kept thinking that the choir sounded like the Temple of the Fayths from Final Fantasy X. Oh! Or the menu screen from the Halo games. And then I kept thinking how awesome it would be to have an epic fight scene in that place. Like the one from Final Fantasy VII Advent Children. All I wanted to be was Tifa Lockhart up in there. Yeah, my geek flag is showing, Waddaya Wanna Do About It!?!?!?
And then came the end prayer and I.......... Sorry, I fell asleep there. No. I wish I fell asleep there. I was kneeling, leaning on the pew in front of me and I kept feeling myself slip away. I was so comfy, I could have just passed out right there. The last thing I needed to do was start snoring while everyone was celebrating the death of Jesus.
So I went to church and survived. I deserve a T-shirt. Someone make me the "I survived Emo Jesus Day and I didn't cut myself" shirt. And there should be a symbol of a cross and a razor blade, with tears. I'm so emo, my razor blade bleeds tears. It was a good experience though. If you want to live a little, try new things. Whatever you normally do, do the opposite. Heathens: go to church, have a chuckle. Christians: go to the strip club, wrap tracks in dollar bills and put it in the stripper's coin slot. Cuz that's what they really want.
Look, I did an entire post curse free! (I don't want to give God more of a reason to strike me down).