Why I Don't Want To Go To Church
My 21st birthday
anniversary is in a couple of month’s time, to that end I have decided to start
taking my fitness a little more seriously. Sit-ups, press-ups, lunges, and two
hour walks.
For the first two days, I stuck
to this regime, until I felt all the muscles in my body start to give.
Day three, my stomach muscles felt like
someone was pulling them end to end and hammering tunelessly at them.
So I dropped the sit-ups, I
figured my stomach was flat and taut enough.
On day four, I had to ditch the lunges.
The muscles in my thighs finally gave, all that tugging and pulling to get
toned legs wasn’t worth it, besides who needs exercises when you do not have a
car?
I do not.
So seven days later I am down to
the walks alone.
Let’s see how long that’s going
to last.
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Having said that. Something has
been bugging me for the past couple of weeks. I cannot seem able to bring
myself to go to church. Hush now, do not start judging yet. Listen.
Every Sunday morning I wake up
bright and early with the best of intentions. I clean the house and take up my
post just outside the gate. Soaking in the sun... that is what I tell people,
when really it is just an excuse to stand and stare at people.
The Gumbo’s from across the
street leave for church before everyone else in the neighbourhood leaves the
house. They are in the Salvation Army.
But they don’t leave all at once.
First goes the son, he is nine and then the two daughters, thirty minutes
later, mum leaves. Mr Gumbo does not go with them. Every Saturday afternoon he
drinks himself into a stupor and does not wake up until the next Monday.
Bless Mrs Gumbo for staying with him. You
should know that their house is right at the end of the street, packed in
between two bigger houses. How all five of them stay together in that house is
beyond me. Bless Mrs. Gumbo for staying.
After the Gumbos comes Madzibaba
Astriledge, he is an apostle/prophet/headman/guru and whatever other odd title
you want to place on him. He will take them all. He seems to glide down the
street, his long white robes billow behind him, and his almost two metre long
wooden stick always manages to stay at least an inch above ground.
His baldhead waves and winks in
the morning sun, and I find men with baldheads fascinating.
When he sees me, he starts
smiling from at least three houses away.
A toothless smile that has flies and other
little critters flying in and out of his mouth (I believe I saw some doing that
the other day). And his cheeks puff out, black and shiny from Vaseline like he
is hiding little clouds in his mouth.
He does not say anything to me though.
Merely waves and tucks back his toothless
gums in his mouth. I somehow think that perhaps the smile he gives me is
contrived.
Next, comes the woman from my
church. If you still yourself (that includes your heart), you can feel
the little ripples in the earth with each step she takes. Her hips fight for
each lunge, to the right, to the left, in a mountainous motion that has your
mouth open a little and little drips of saliva dripping out.
Her skirt flits and stops, flits
and stops. The moment I see her rounding the corner I know it is time to dash
inside and get ready for church.
But I don’t.
I stand there mesmerised (well that's not entirely true), by her and the couple that
follows, the little boy on his way home with a loaf of bread. The little girls
getting ready to start playing in the street.
And the excuses swelling in my
head, and then exploding into a million others in my head.
The biggest and possibly the most
dangerous is that I say to myself in a voice so sage I could, in that moment,
be a guru,
“You don’t have to go to church
to be a Christian.”
I never admit
that I am wrong because if I were, I would know but bottom line, LIES ALL LIES!!
Why do I have
to go to church?
The answer to
the question, “Why do I have to go to church?” is fourfold:
1. It
is in the fellowship of the church where we find Jesus Christ.
2. It
is in the fellowship of the church where we find protection from the demonic
forces of evil and sin in this world.
3. It
is in the fellowship of the church where we find encouragement in life.
4. It
is in the fellowship of the church where we become Jesus Christ to the world.
For the reason
that I believe Jesus Christ died for me, for that reason alone. I am ditching
my crowd watching, people profiling nonsensical Sunday morning activities. Spending
Sundays watching TBN is really not the same as the beauty of fellowshipping in
Jesus Christ.
Jesus is amazing, I'm glad you've decided to go to church instead.
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