WALL OF TEXT

P.S. IF THE BELOW IS BORING TO YOU I EMBEDDED CERTAIN WORDS WITH LINKS TO VARIOUS YOUTUBE VIDEOS I STUMBLED UPON TODAY. CATCH THEM ALL (Srsly theres like a good half hour of content in there don't feel obligated to watch it. I'll talk about it in the next post.)

Sunday Service at Hope Chapel

I assume several people chose to attend Hope Chapel as their first field research, for a variety of reasons. I happened to know a friend of mine attended regularly, and her parents were willing to let me tag along (and ferry me to and fro in the process). Being that I hadn’t so much as touched a bible/torah/qu’ran/horseshoe in the last 19 years I thought Hope Chapel would be a relatively calm entry point. Considering it was the only church who’s name I knew, it was a good idea to bring guides.
Hope Chapel is large. My initial impressions upon pulling into the parking lot revolved around the sheer size of this establishment. It was very professional (if I had to sum it up with a word). We meandered into the courtyard filled with people of all sorts. I’d like to say I was hit with a wall of sound and color, but to be honest it was just people going about their business. This was their Sunday morning every week. Nor did I feel out of place; I announced I was new and they directed me to a poster board full of pamphlets and fliers. I took one. Later, they handed me another.
The actual chapel was already 3/4ths full when we entered. A band was playing on stage (the Youth band, I was informed) and it was decent rock. Definitely Christian rock, I knew, because the words were projected on two gargantuan screens on either side. Various imagery flowed behind the words; pictures of clouds and green hills and a few crosses. We found our seats but did not immediately sit. The majority of the attendees were singing along, my cohorts included. Which was news to me, I had never heard any of them so much as hum. I followed suit with some enthusiasm (the music was okay!). Whenever the lyrics got a little too intense I gently let my voice fade and felt guilty for it. Looking around during a lull I observed with interest area where the projectors were run, the pens that were tucked into the back of each cushioned chair, and the few hands stretched out towards the source of the music. The songs were praise set to music, full of love and happiness and…not devotion, not obedience, but of a sort of complete absorption of one’s self into a higher power. I was unsure, exactly.
Eventually the musicians put down their instruments and a thankful prayer was said. We were informed our pastor would be Jan Apo, an enthusiastic local fellow with a headset mic. He, in turn, informed us that he was glad to see us here and today we would be focusing on A Message on Life and Death from Psalm 23, which was about sheep. Sheep, as it turns out, are a fantastic source of metaphors and connections to Christianity. Even I was familiar with fragments of Psalm 23, or at least the imagery of the valley of the shadow of death and the cup runneth-ing over. But, as I was to find out, the rest of it primarily concerns sheep. We who raised our hands were given cheat sheets with the psalm and fragments of the sermon printed on them, complete with blanks to be filled in with the pens attached to our seats.
Jan’s words were projected on the clouds and green hills (now with additional lambs) while he spoke. He drew from various other biblical sources as well as factual facets of practical shepherding while he worked his way through the Psalm. Many times he broke off to reiterate the general gist of what he was saying. He very obviously wanted everyone to understand exactly what he meant.
1. The Lord Is My Shepherd; I Shall Not Want. This was a big point. I initially glanced around in a concerned manner when it was directly implied that humanity were Sheep, but I realized that there were none of the generally held negative connotations concerning sheep involved in this sermon. Being a sheep meant we had a shepherd to take care of us which, as Jan elucidated, was a pretty sweet deal for the sheep.
Taking care of sheep is a real hassle. Sheep are problematic at best, and downright picky most of the time. Apparently shepherding is a raw deal compared to chicken-, goose-, or cow-herding. Sure, the Lord maketh me lie down in green pastures and leadeth me to still waters but for sheep that isn’t nearly enough. The methodical and concise way Jan went down the list of requirements and connected them directly with specific sections of the bible had me downright impressed. This guy knew his stuff, knew what it meant, and knew how to help other people learn it. Sheep get scared, get afraid. To deal with fear, 1 John 4:18. Bam. Cure your fear of death, your fear of loss, your fear of impermanence in all things, with the one true eternal unending love that is god’s love for us, and that will push the fear out. BAM. Problem solved.
After a lesson in sheep, Jan tied it all together. Masterfully. He went back and gathered up all the threads of the sermon: the dedication of the shepherd, the sheer amount of work sheep turned out to be, how the solution to these problems can be found outlined in the bible, and why we read this thing at funerals all the time anyway. The point of Psalm 23 is, as he put it, that we’re all going to die. And that isn’t that bad, because Jesus the Good Shepherd is going to guide you , just like he had to do all that other stuff to take care of you before. There is a pattern here.
The sermon concluded with some humorous anecdotes and the call to put this to heart; to spread it and not leave it here each week. I raised my hand when he asked if there was anyone new in the audience, fearing the worst. He thanked us and carried on. Once again I was reminded that people do this every Sunday. The band came back, and we went outside. I was informed more about the actual mechanics of the “Campus”, as they called it, while we ate delicious seafood quesadillas. Cooked and sold on-site. I was blown away.
Later I was told that that was a pretty good sermon even by their standards, and that I couldn’t have picked a better day to attend and try to glean some concept of the whole scheme of things over at Hope Chapel. And I can see why. As the sermon ended, I found myself following up the thought of “They do this every Sunday!?” with its’ direct descendant: “What the hell else is there to talk about? He just covered it!”.
I can see why Hope Chapel is packed each week. It’s a good time, all things considered. The music and food are decent, the atmosphere is friendly to all, and the message has all the good sides of Christianity (Primarily that god loves everyone. Which is a big deal, when you think about it.) I wasn’t really uncomfortable at any time, nor did I feel out of place or pressured. I didn’t agree with the congregation at all times, but I didn’t want to run screaming out of the room either. A fully formulated Decision about Christianity can’t possibly be made after a single visit, but let’s call this one “pleasantly surprising while confirming some of my suspicions”.
Oh, and my skin didn’t fester and boil once I crossed the threshold of the chapel, which was a big relief.