The Niece sings in a choir at church. The Niece’s choir was singing at this morning’s contemporary service so the better-half and I decided to attend. When my mother walked into the sanctuary she was surprised to see us. I told her it was Heathen Sunday. Then we confessed to being there to see The Niece sing.
The service started with a clip from the movie The Passion of Christ. Because of technical difficulties the video didn’t start playing immediately but the sound did. Creepy sounds of agony. I haven’t seen the movie but could tell we were going to get to watch the crucifixion scene. My mother hoped they wouldn’t get the technical glitch fixed. I agreed since the front rows were filled with the little kid choir. The choir of children under the age of 10. They fixed the projector and I put my head down so I didn’t have to watch iron spikes go through flesh. After the scene, I raised my head and filled my heart with hate. There’s no other way to explain it. Unless we consider that it was rage that filled my heart. How about hate and rage? I’m sure those were the emotions the minister was going for.
My sister was displeased and said she had to cover The Niece’s eyes. She also helped shield the little girl sitting next to her–the little girl who said she was scared just when the sound worked and no images appeared. My mother said she’s formally going to complain to the minister about his choice of film clips. I told her this was one of the reasons I don’t go to church.
I’m not naive. I’m well aware of the crucifixion story and what EXACTLY happens during that process. I don’t need to watch one on a big screen. I certainly don’t want my almost 5 year old niece to watch one on the big screen.
I don’t go to church. I don’t go because I disagree with the premise that I can only find redemption and faith in a room with a bunch of other people. You can argue that this outlook is old fashioned but that is the lesson I learned in Sunday school when I was a child. In theory times may have changed, but it was clear to me on this Sunday morning things weren’t that different. It felt like old times having religion beaten over my head. Let’s make kids scared so they’ll know the Spirit.
It really is none of my business how the congregation deals with their minister but I can only hope that he gets the message that showing R rated movies to small children isn’t cool. There are other ways to talk about the sacrifice that Jesus made for his followers.
I haven’t seen that movie either. It was in our Netflix queue before we dropped Netflix due to lack of use. I wasn’t the one who added it, and now I have even less desire to see it.
I hope your niece wasn’t too traumatized.
We don’t do organized religion either. I like the way they do it in Europe, where churches are left open and people are free to go in whenever they feel the need. I always balked at the Sunday school/potluck dinner mentality that goes along with organized religion in our country.
Spirituality is way too personal to lump into an hour every Sunday morning.