A Day at Church

This past Sunday I deviated from my original schedule. Since this was just my second week into this exercise of visiting different church, I feel this may set a bad early precedence for myself. But I wanted to attend my home church of Meadowbrook UMC to see Rev. Chandler do his first person sermon. This is where he plays a biblical character, and delivers the message from the voice of that character. This past Sunday he played the role of the inn keeper that shut out Joseph and Mary. Over all it was good, and had a distinct message to it.... so for the life of me I can not recall what that message was right now.

Since I am quite familiar with Meadowbrook, it is difficult for me to give an honest "visitor's account" of my experience there. So in lieu of that I have decided to share a poem about church. Upon cleaning out my closet I discovered some writings I had done many years ago. One of those writings was a poem titled A Day at Church. I can remember writing this, and it's words were inspired by many Sunday mornings at Meadowbrook1. Thus I feel it might be appropriate for now.


A Day at Church

An old man speaks.

I sit expressionless,
Glancing around at other
Expressionless faces,
Lots of people I don’t know.

The choir sings.

I look down at the golf pencils,
How far could I get one
Up my nose before
It starts bleeding?

Now we pray.

Is that mud on my shoes?
I hope its mud.
Where did I get mud from?
Did it rain this morning?

An old man speaks.

The ceiling is divided into 18 sections,
Each section has several small tiles,
144 small tiles in each section,
2592 small tiles in all.

An old woman sings.

What if I jabbed the
Golf pencil into my eye?
Would everyone turn around?
Would the old lady stop singing?

More prayer.

I wonder how many tiles
There are on the floor?
Can I crawl under the pews?
Would anyone care?

More singing.

There are 4 sections of pews,
18 pews in each section,
4 golf pencils to each pew,
288 little golf pencils.

An old man speaks.

A note gets passed,
Lunch. Question mark.
Chili’s, On the Border, Friday’s
Question mark.

The old man is still speaking.

I imagine I am watching a slow train,
I count each rail car as it passes,
432 and counting,
There’s no caboose in sight.

We sing again.

Mr. Johnson didn’t stand up.
I wonder if he’s asleep,
I wonder if he’s dead,
Either way I envy him.

The benediction!

Anticipation, eagerness,
Finally I can leave.
Church is over!
Thank God. Amen.



Upcoming schedule:
January 3rd – Bellaire United Methodist (Houston, TX)
January 10th – Brookhaven United Methodist (Dallas, TX)
January 17th – New Beginnings Church (Arlington, TX)


1. In fairness to Meadowbook, their worship service at the time was considerably more drab than it is now.