I’m prefacing the main entry of this blog with a few notes.
First, the reader should be aware that I originally penned this in approximately 2003. At that time I was still largely connected to the institutional church- I even wrote it during a Sunday morning service!
In trying to recall what it was that set this tirade off, I can only remember that the minister told us to stand for corporate prayer and that word- corporate- really pissed me off. So, sitting there in Sunday morning church next to my mother, while all the other congregates were singing “Oh, How I Love Jesus,” I was angrily and bitterly penning the following words:
Is this what God intended?
We even say “corporate” worship- like the church is a business or some silly shit like that, as though God/ Jesus is our fucking boss and we’re his employees not his followers. As though Jesus was the one who started this “business” of Christianity and now it’s all the church body’s responsibility, duty, job function, whatever, to keep giving money to this corporation to keep the lights on and the heater running. What a crock of bullshit. I fucking hate Sunday.
And what’s up with these songs? I fucking swear it sounds like a dead person is setting the tempo. God forbid we sing anything from our own time. For some reason no one wants to oust that shit from the annals of our corporation’s fucking melting pot. Why? Because they’re fucking tradition, that’s why. Our holy ass ancestors wrote that shit and today, hundreds of years later, we still sing that shit. Well, I’m sick.
The same notebook which contained the rant above also contains several poems. Some, I think, are insightful if not cynical:
“If only I had forever to sing Your love
I’d waste it all on loving myself.”
Like what is He?
Not like: me
Nor like: he
Nor all of us: we.
He is I AM.”
“Roaring from 24 comes this pain- I need no more.
I’ve realized I’m memorizing
Every vice- myself enticing…”
“Bourgeoise and proletariat- all are reeds within His love.”
“I’m a diamond. No one cuts but He who set me free.”
In retrospect, my mindset at this time could be best explained with another poetic analogy. I am sure you will recognize the source of this one:
“There’s no earthly way of knowing
Which direction we are going.
There’s no knowing
Where we’re going
Or which way the boat is rowing.”