Split A Piece of Wood (from the comfort of your home)

You likely thought I was going to talk about a splinter, hunh? Word on the street is, I sat on a wooden bench and got a splinter. In my backside. And had to figure a way to get it out that didn’t involve asking my Uncle. The last time he saw my backside, he was replacing a diaper. Neither one of us needed to experience him attending to my booty meat in the year of our Lord, 2020. Neither one of us. *you started singing too, didn’t you? come thruuuu mother gladys*

https://www.windowworldlexington.com/windows/sliding/

I’m writing to you on today, because I see that some people are still glad to be in the service at their church. I keep seeing these posts about places of worship and religiously affiliated associations looking for exemptions to the Shelter In Place directivers around the world, and the Physical Distancing #StaySocialTho #From6FeetOrMoreOrWiFi expectations set forth by literally every worldly governing body trying to keep you alive, in the wake of the pandemic. I know if you look out your window, you can’t see the pandemic, but just like the air, and the heavens above (to you believers) it’s there. It’s real.

My Daddie used to tell me that that good book you got over there (or on your phone) says when two or more are gathered in His name, Church can happen. I bet they needed to be in a specific building to do that back in the times of Jesus because the Pharisees were on him like gangs back in the 90s. They likely needed to come together too, in my Daddie’s growing up in the JimCrow South time (and the time before), because there were amerikkkans trying to be starting something with them. Those people found solace, safety, and salvation in the Lord’s House (that was built by men).

But in this time, in my time, and if you’re blessed to be reading this, your time too, the act of gathering hits a lil’different. We can literally come together from our physically distant homes. Be honest, DJ DNice’s #ClubQuarantine was everything! No? But you was jammin’ to Anthony Hamilton and laughing when he started yellin’ at his kids. And these make me choose battles? Teddy Riley and Babyface up next on #VERZUZ? It’s like naming a favorite kid from the world’s biggest stage with the loudest microphone.

Just think for a second. How did you feel? Were you alone? And, my God, did two or more like-minded souls gather?

Summa’yall used to think that Bedside Baptists weren’t getting the same blessings, and now look at you. That same God has made it so that you can praise in your wave caps, bonnets, and house shoes. Still get a word, on today. Still come together with the invention of wi-fi. Be blessed, in spite of (the whole pandemic outside your window).

I imagine those folks who think they need to come together using this gas (that’s also hittin’ like the 90s) to get the word, to receive the blessings, are thinking God is working in the former. But some of us aren’t foolish enough to think that God isn’t evolving with us. Frankly, all this stuff God’s anyway…well, it’s like both ours…but, you know. What if God wanted you to see that you were blessed enough to be in Church, in communion with people, every second of the day. That the fact that you could worship from the comfort of your home was a blessing. Perhaps God wanted you to know that when your car wasn’t working, or when you were really sick, you could have logged on from your phone and been praising and prophesying with the congregation. Just, maybe. ‘Cause honestly, if your place of worship is in 2020 with the rest of us, it’s likely streaming a message in real-time, or shortly after the conclusion of service. Or the same way you been watching television on YouTube or Facebook Live, about 50-11 million pastors been streaming a word that could have been for you.

Look, I can’t compel you to stay home. Just like I can’t convince you to not buy up all the toilet paper (c’mon fam, chill). I mean, look what it took for summa’yall to start washing your hands the right way (or at all, also, yall nasty)? It’s just, my heart is heavy about this dying world right now. I don’t like all yall, but I don’t want people dying like this, or worse, asymptomatically affecting others. ‘Cause I promise, if one of yall would have took my grandparents out before the Good Lord called them home, I was laying hands. And not holy ones…

But what was I saying?

I got this favorite movie. Well I have a lot of them that I really like, and depending on what I’m talking about, I’ll call it my favorite. Anyway, the movie – Stigmata. It’s about lost words, written by Jesus, the Christ, and not one of those disciples. An accounting in Jesus’ own words, by Jesus’ own hands. The Catholic Church is trying to keep the translated words a secret for fear those words would destroy the Church. That the message would tip the scales of power. That the people wouldn’t wait for the doors of the Church to open to access the Lord. What were those words?

…the Kingdom of God is inside you, and all around you, not in mansions of wood and stone. Split a piece of wood…and I am there. Lift a stone…and you will find me…

Now I know these words (or something like them) are in places more religi’fied than that movie and this blog, but since summa’yall tried to buy plane tickets to Wakanda, work with me. Many Churches are maximizing 2020 using multiple virtual and #PhysicallyDistant medium to nuture believers and search for lost sheep. Now, I will leave you to connect the dots about some of those other “houses” of worship using government loopholes or inept government officials to encourage people to have their entire self, all the way outside during a global pandemic. ‘Cause it’s there.

I imagine the person sermonizing in your place of worship has sermonized about this sentiment – just like my Daddie. My Daddie told of us of a time where he called on the Lord as the Doctors took him into the operating room for surgery. Daddie said, his prayer consisted of one word, Jesus. Now, it might have been those smart ass doctors at Stanford, maybe it was Jesus, or some divine spirit working through them, but people die every day, and well, my Grandmama’s had been praying over my raggedly lil’ life for so long, I tend to believe a man when he says he prayed a prayer in faith. And his faith was returned to him exceedingly and abundantly.

Let me get back to this message so the choir can come up and sang another selection.

from the book, of FaceBook.

I just hope, these pastors haven’t convinced you that the only way to access the Lord, is to put your life in danger. I really hope, and pray, they haven’t convinced you to be unwise. ‘Cause whomever you’re praying to, that omnipresent being probably had something to say about foolishness and wisdom, in addition to the importance of gathering together. This is also a good time for you to look at yourself in the mirror and discuss just how devout you’ve been to all the other instructive information in that good book you got over there.

Also, when you potentially pass away from COVID-19 – because you keep going to Church when the Center for Disease Control & World Health Organization is actually, verbatim, telling you to Chill, fam – you won’t have a funeral or memorial service because well, while the doors of your Church might be open on Sunday, them people who got the body over there won’t be releasing your remains. Because, wisdom. And safety. And, well…

There. Is. A. Whole. Global. Pandemic. Outside. Your. Window.

And just in case you need a little more convincing. Do as my little sister, in Shanghai, who been #SafeInside waaaay longer than the rest of us, do what she told our other little sister to do: Just let that play let that play in the background while you’re cooking or cleaning.

Pray safe inside.

Some of us have summer birthdays.

......can I get an Amen??

Yall.

The homey got a new job! I’m so happy for her. Typically, a new professional experience starts out exciting. In reality, it doesn’t always end that way because you find yourself searching at some point. But in that moment, when you’re in a situation where your time has passed – for good or for otherwise – getting that new offer letter is everything! It means everything. That two-week notice can’t come (and go) quick enough! Summa’yall won’t even do that. Also, I’m part of the summa’yall, so there is that. #NoJudgement #GetOut #WhileYoureYetAlive

So, at some point we’ll turn up, then swirl up (at the new location), because the squad is coming up! We will talk about all she went through in that past experience over a super fancy dinner, so she can step into that new experience free of that former job residue.

There’s just one problem though. Her last employer was…

…the Church.

Yall. *pray for me*

When the opportunity was presented to her, she came to the squad for counsel. Everyone provided thoughts and considerations, but ultimately decided that whatever decision she made, we would support. I was in that camp too #LiesToldInBlogs. But, I also pitched my tent *proverbially – you know I ain’t going camping* somewhere else. I wasn’t so sure it was the best job to take – which is what I told her in so many (petty) words. And no, this is not me saying I told you so. I actually hate it when I’m in the position to say I told you so. Honestly, I wish I didn’t know.

That’s what I say. Every time. I really wish that I didn’t know.

So, let’s deep dive into this. Why did I think it was a bad idea to work for the Church?

Well, glad you asked. It starts all the way back to my childhood *repressed memory alert*. We were getting ready for Vacation Bible School. You know, that week long summer school at Church experience. You know, the summer time where you been running around the streets all day BECAUSE IT’S SUMMER TIME AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL, so you got plenty of time to learn about Jesus, so you’re going to school for vacation. Bring ya’ bible. As we were getting ready for Vacation Bible School, I remember my mother making us change from our play clothes into other stuff. Not quite school clothes, not exactly church clothes, but definitely nicer than what we would be wearing in the summertime, because we’re going to Church. Put a skirt on! because woes be unto the woman-child that got some pants on in the house of the Lord – Granny don’t play that.

I never understood, for the life of me, why it mattered what I wore. And this is beyond the come as you are scripture references. Like, what do people wear if they don’t have nice clothes? There’s a dress code? Uniform? Are they not able to come to Church? And, if they are able to come to Church in their pants, why I can’t wear these shorts? It’s hot outside, and it’s hot in that Church! …and when the fire you said was shut up in my bones lets loose, you think that MLKJr (on one side)/Jones Mortuary (on the other side) church fan gonna help me? I never got a good answer, and since I didn’t want to get a good a$$ whoopin’ I dressed according to my grandmother’s desires.

(I did wear pants to Church once in my life. I was visiting my little sister and cuzzo in Atlanta for Easter. Yall, I never prayed so hard in my life that my granny would never find out about it! I was nervous the whole service! I wasn’t exactly sweatin’ like a hooker in church … it was more or less perspiring like a loose woman at bible study... I couldn’t even praise and worship for looking left and right… *wipes brow* Also, my granny in heaven talking bad about me with the other church mothers that have long since left us. Also – again – why do I keep telling on myself?)

Think about the recent(ish) news about the Church. My mans’an’nem trying to buy a whole airplane on the Church’s credit card. No, not like a cargo plane to bring food and supplies to the less fortunate, or to pick up citizens from weather-torn places, or save refugees from warzones… No, a whole private aircraft to take them to and fro’ to spread the good news. C’mon son. If Jesus Tyrone Christ was here with us, in this time, do you honestly think He would be on a private plane? I’m not sure He would even be flying business class. Think about this. In real life, Jesus would probably be riding Spirit Airlines, or Frontier, if He were to even fly at all^*. Why? Because He would be with the common man. He would ask us to take Him to the alley. He would be found with the least of those among us, turning the rations they offer into loaves of bread, fish, and wine, walking up and down the aisles while the seatbelt sign is clearly lit. Why you need a whole plane to yo’self? Some of the most successful businesses today have found ways to run their businesses from the comfort of their employee’s couches. If I can work from home making six-figures, why you NEED A WHOLE AIRCRAFT TO YOURSELF? If coach is good enough to be a designer brand, it’s good enough for you to ride in. AND – if you fly that much, your frequent flyer game should be lit (like mine!). Summa’dem flights should be free!

*Seeing that Jesus was basically an immigrant, He likely wouldn’t even be able to get identification that would allow Him to get through TSA. You know we living in the last days when we would put our Lord & Savior on Greyhound. Why are we like this, yall? For, why?*

You ever try to sit on the front pew? Have you needed to go to the bathroom during the altar call? Funds been low when it’s time to join the processional to give an offering? Use your outside language (I’m not even talking about curse words) inside the Church? …or what about, let’s say for instance, you go to visit a Church in another city and state and they hand you the program. Inside, you see the welcome, order of service, hymnals to sing, and a list of all the wayward sinners who are late on their tithes. Or maybe it was a list of everyone who paid their tithes, with the totals to date, like a St. Jude fundraiser. Either way, I can’t even (stay for the whole service – we absolutely left).

…and I’m not saying that all Church is bad. I’m saying Church is human (and a chicken joint). When Jesus died on the cross for us, and eventually left us to figure this all out, He left it in the hands of humans (who eat chicken, except some of us when pregnant). There are some humans who are great employers, and some who are not. Some humans who should be in the business of managing people. And then there are other humans whose business should definitely be saving people’s everlasting souls. Sometimes the Church is great at both of those things, but in my experience, the Church has typically only been good at one of those things.

Years back this same friend was baptized at her Church. The squad showed up and showed out. Literally. Before the Pastor could call her family and following to the alter, the YAMPS did what we do best – made a whole entrance to witness her dedicating herself and her life to the Lord. As we two stepped to the altar before we were called, the Pastor very lovingly and sweetly welcomed us, acknowledging our passion and fervor for her and the Lord, and not our impatience with the procedures. The service to follow was wonderful. We left that space filled and full with the love of God and so much love for each other. I couldn’t imagine it any differently – even with our strong and wrong processional to the altar.

My mother is not a nice woman.

When you leave a place with that much love and wonder, do you really want to know what happened prior to make all that happen? Because before all of that wonder, Deacon Adams was behind the Church smoking a cigarette talking about how the finance ministry always messing up the books. He was outside the Church, so he was absolutely using his outside voice. It’s like when you found out what hot dogs were made of. Or what goes into gummy bears to make them deliciously gummy. Who walks in on their parents having sex and walks out feeling good about themselves and/or the people that made them? Listen. WELL INTO my 30’s my mother sent me a birthday card that said on the front: Have you ever wondered why you’re here?

The answer: Duh, your parents had SEX! Now while you’re thinking about THAT try to have a Happy Birthday!

A whole grown up at work with a full staff team and couple hundred indirect reports. A whole grown up who also serves as a crisis manager and on-call responder. A WHOLE TAX PAYING, SINGLE STATUS FILING adult, had to take the rest of the day off. I didn’t even go have a drink. I just rocked myself to sleep in my bed with the Build-A-Bear SDP got me when were at UCLA. I never saw my parents (in my adult years) kissing each other sweetly. It always had a tinge of WTH are yall doing? You have 7 kids?! Shouldn’t you be walking around the house and sleeping in hazmat suits??

I know how I got here. Hello, I was a physiological sciences major in a past life, and I totes watch Rated-R movies. But did I want to hold that in my conscious mind? Nah.

Remember when you were a kid and you wondered how your grandmother’s hair was always perfectly curled all the time? Then you got a little older and realized it was a wig. You never saw her put on the wig, but just like you finally had to come to grips with Santa not being real, you saw her adjust her wig before she got out of the car in the parking lot at Sizzler, and the all-you-can-eat buffet just wasn’t the same after that. And as she got a little closer to her homegoing years and she needed you more for the things she used to do for you (feed, clothe, walk, etc), she called you in from the other room to reach her good wig because she was going to the Senior Center to play cards with her friends. You couldn’t react. You just had to live with that. Holding your grandmother’s perfectly curled hair, not attached to her head yet – because she was waiting on you to do it.

For me and my single status filing house, working for the Church is the same way. I love being in fellowship with believers and those searching for answers. One of my fondest memories in my whole black life is being a little girl in a church dress and ruffled socks writing my name in my first King James Version bible, a gift from my father – little legs just swinging from the folding chair I was seated in. *and one of you said my legs still do that and I absolutely just called you a name and it was not of God* Anyway, it just so happens that Daddie was in the pulpit giving the sermon that day. Even with that beautiful reverie, did I want to see underneath the Church’s wig? Nah.

My friend saw underneath the perfected curls and she witnessed imperfect people. This isn’t a crime – working for the Church or being a member of the clergy doesn’t negate your humanity. And imperfection is the human condition, no matter how hard we try. It’s not easy to give grace to those whom you’ve entrusted with your spiritual nurturing though. So many of us leave our Mon-Fri’s, 8am – 5pm’s, and swing shifts and beeline to the Church to clear our hearts and minds of what we’ve experienced in the world as believers. When the world (work you just left) is the same place you’re fervently praying and meditating about during the altar call, where else can you turn? 

I mean, if you go to work (at the Church) and feel amazing when you leave work (at the Church) then you’re at one of those places that can do both – good job! If not, then I’m definitely not saying, I told you so. That’s hella rude.

I’m saying, I wish I didn’t know.