But we were late to the service by almost 30 minutes. So we arrived midway through a sermon about Hosea (Um, where's the story about Jesus, people?), and we sat in the back row and smelled strongly of waffle fries, since that's what had made us late. Waffle fries from The Ram, and the waitress who served them so slowly. Anyway, the point is that we didn't get a chance to put ourselves in the right frame of mind. I didn't, at least. Strike one.
Strike two occurred when I recognized a fellow pew-sitter in the parking garage after the service, and I stopped her to compliment her hair. She was STUNNED. And not in a flattered way, because her hair was so awesome that she obviously knew it was gorg. She just said, "I don't think I know you!" I'm sorry ma'am, we just sang a hymn together. Can't you just say thank you? Sisters in Christ, much? It was exactly what I don't like about a big church. Or maybe I just didn't like this lady.
Strike three? While waiting 15+ minutes to exit the parking garage, from whence all church-goers came, a shiny black Mercedes refused to "do the zipper" as we tried to merge down the ramp. Again, we just sang a hymn together.
And so on the way home from Maundy Thursday, I didn't reflect on Christ's death and resurrection, I pondered 1) why The Ram is *never* good, 2) how to get hair like that lady, and 3) why I have such ridiculous expectations when it comes to church. I am accustomed to flawless musicianship, strong preaching, policemen directly traffic. I appreciate a community that values excellence--but have I become a spoiled churchgoer? Yes! Yikes!
I think I need a visit to Mexico and a rousing round of Alabare to get my attitude in check.