Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Jogging
Monday, September 28, 2009
Jesusgasm
“I haven’t been in church in so long,” Ryan said craning his neck up to the rafters and stained glass of the church lobby.
“I find it hard to believe you’ve ever stepped foot in a church.” Hank replied.
“Yeah, I’m an Episcopal. It like Catholic but half the guilt and twice the fun.”
Hank smiled. He was dressed in his Sunday best, from his gelled down hair to his well-polished shoes. Ryan was the exact opposite, wearing dirty jeans, an untucked flannel shirt, and hair that hadn’t been washed for days.
“I haven’t been to church in a long time either,” Hank said. “I used to be a Jesus freak but I kind of got burned-“ Hank’s eyes focused on a cluster of people chatting across the lobby. “Christ, there he is, grinning like an idiot.”
“Who?” Ryan asked, confused.
“Damn, he saw me,” a young pudgy man started walking towards Ryan and Hank waving vigorously. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“Hank, brother! Where’ve you been?” the man asked as he approached. He was in his mid-thirties with a dirty-blonde hair done up to a faux-hawk. Grinning and holding out his hand, he shook Hanks’s vigorously. “It’s so good to see you Hank, It’s been too long.”
“Yeah it has,” Hank said. “Chris, this is Ryan, Ryan, Chris.”
Smiling, Chris leaned in and looked Ryan intensely in the eye. “So good to meet you, Ryan.”
“Ditto,” Ryan said, trying to suppress a laugh.
“Now Ryan tell me,” Chris said seriously, “do you have a personal relationship with our one and only lord and savior, Jesus Christ?”
“Um, yeah.” Ryan was caught a little off-guard. Hank was massaging his forehead, shaking his head as he looked at the ground.
“Hallelujah! Ryan, that is so good to hear!” Chris exclaimed. “Ryan, I can tell we’re going to be great friends! Hank, it’s a blessing to see you again. Y’all come inside and sit with me. Today’s going to be great, Hank, Stephen Rogers is leading the praise band.”
Hank and Ryan looked at each other then followed Chris into the chapel. “Interesting friend,” Ryan Whispered.
“You haven’t seen the half of it, Hank whispered back. “That man is psychotically Baptist.”
The church was very modern. Instead of pews, rows of padded folding chairs were set out in front of a raised platform where the band consisting mostly of high school kids was playing. Leading the band was a guy sitting behind a very shiny grand piano. He was dressed in a pinstripe suit that was too big for him and wore his spiky hair with way too much gel. He wasn’t necessarily a bad singer, but completely inappropriate for church, like a nasally and pitchy Justin Timberlake.
“Who is this cracker?” Ryan asked looking towards the stage.
“Stephen Rogers. Be careful what you say about him. People around here love that bastard.”
They made their way to some seats in the back near the isle. Ryan looked around and noticed that a majority of the people around him had their hands in the air and were swaying with their eyes closed. With a half effort, he began to join in but Hank grabbed his arms and put them back down. He looked at Ryan and shook his head.
Stephen and his minions transitioned into an upbeat number. You could feel the change in the room. People began to shout “Hallelujah!” and “Amen” and the man across the isle from the trio even started to shake.
Chris’ arm was in the air as he sang along to the music. “Praise Him!” he shouted.
“Okay, why the hell did you bring me here?” Ryan asked.
“Those two.” Hank pointed toward the right side of the stage where a lanky, stoned-looking bass player and feisty little drummer were playing. “They’re the best drummer and bassist I know.”
Ryan nodded and looked down, the man across the aisle as now shaking violently on the floor. “Um, I think that fella’ is having a seizure.”
Hank looked down towards the man, “Holy crap! Chris, that guy needs help.”
Chris glanced over and just smiled and shook his head. “Haven’t you ever seen the Holy Spirit, overtake someone?” he asked. “It’s a wonderful thing.”
Hank hesitated, “No, Chris, I don’t think this is just a Jesusgasm-”
“Hank,” Chris said, “Trust me, I know the difference between the hand of God and epilepsy.”