D
dronald
Guest
My aunt was raised Anglican, and this is one thing she loves about the Church that I attend. No one is judged for what they wear. You have no idea what the struggles of a teenager in jeans, a man in a suit, or a homeless man off the street have in their lives. They showed up for God and for that you should be thankful. Ask yourself what Jesus used to ask, “What did you come out to see?”I visited a Protestant church yesterday and it was awful. I was there because my wife’s grandmother was being honored as she is a Baptist and had been a member for 45 years, plus she turned 90 yesterday too. So part of the service was dedicated to her. Now…
It’s been a long, long, long time since I’ve been to a Protestant church for anything and I must confess that I truly felt like an outsider the entire time. For starters, the dress code was abysmal. People in jeans, girls in short shorts, men wearing ball caps. It ran the gamut, I’ll tell you.
I bet you would hate the underground Church’s in China and Saudi Arabia? People worship differently in different places depending on culture. Pictures of Jesus were not there maybe, but was Jesus there? If He was then shouldn’t you be thankful that Christ is with those people in their hearts?What else shocked me was the COMPLETE absence of Jesus in regards to the decor of the church. I knew there wouldn’t be crucifixes or holy water founts, but no crosses? Not even one on top of the building? Of course, not a single picture of Christ anywhere. Later after the service, while walking around, I did discover a very crudely constructed cross that of all things had been covered up by the jumbo screen that was used to show movie clips to further emphasize an already poor message.
Jesus basically only used real world situations to get His message across. Every parable was said in a way that people of the time would understand well. You’re grasping straws here.The message. I felt the young preacher was rambling on and trying to use too many real world situations to get his message across. Added, he also cried like a baby halfway through because according to him people dont’ know how to capitalize on grace that is everywhere.
And you’ve never been so in awe of God that you’ve cried?
A pastor willing to cry infront of the congregation because of his love of God sounds humble to me.Maybe I’m alone on this, I don’t know. But just nothing at all felt like a church. There was no humbleness, it was all show up, hear some really, really weak Protestant jokes, concentrate on a line or two of the reading, and then have people come down and testify.
Well you’re Catholic, and in the Catholic Church is where you love to be; there’s nothing wrong with that.I have this sort of guilt that I didn’t open my heart enough to it and maybe that’s why I felt rather numb. But so many people there were just procedural and hapless. It made me sad for both myself and them. The whole time the preacher is speaking, all I wanted do was go to Mass and feel the ritual, tradition, reverance, and about all innocent humility of being in Christ’s presence.