As a part of a school assignment, I attended a service at the church of my youth for the first time since my mother died, in September. Even in isolation from my experiences at a Catholic Mass the week prior (of which more later), my attendance at the Salvation Army church served to revive memories of why I found myself an atheist (of which more later).
As a child I gradually grew alienated from the church. It wasn't simply that I found the services long and boring. It was that I felt that the church not only worshiped in a manner I found disrespectful of any God, but also seemed to me to be idolatrous. It was because of those two reasons that I did my best to leave the church, though I should be admitted that I maintained an attendance over the years for the sake of my dying mother.
The services of the Salvation Army, for the uninitiated, can be summarized as being a "song and dance" routine. The uniformed band, which is of a high quality, begins things with some traditional numbers. This is followed by the uniformed choir, with their own offerings. Between this and the sermon (which is quite some time), the focus shifts to the non-uniformed band du jour, which as of this past Sunday, was a rock band, in the finest example of modern day evangelical protestantism. They had very nice guitars, and a cute youngster from the choir performed lead vocals. In the past we had folk bands, and through my life I have witnessed the "electrification" of the service.
This electrification did not sit well with many in the congregation. Indeed, many of the elderly would use the opportunity to leave the church, a reaction which occasioned a sermon on how insensitive it was to reject the style of worship others have adopted. I would agree with the Old that electrification is a sappy sell-out to the youth. I go further and declaim the whole service, regardless of the music, for, when you place music above the message, as the SA has always done, you are nothing more than a carnival. If Jesus was the word made flesh, than why not use words?
My other issue with the SA was that, by the time came for the sermon, they seemingly indulged in idolatry. I must confess I did not understand the doctrine of the trinity, but that did not stop me from having significant problems with the name of Jesus being invoked at every opportunity - as opposed to God. They only ever thanked Jesus/God for their sacrifice on the cross, and nothing else, which I thought improper and irreverent.
These feelings would begin my exodus from the church, religion, and God. I did not at the time feel like Atheism was a proper position to take, though I had felt like an atheist already. I felt that I needed some kind of religion, and so I would examine others. I respected Islam for its apparent simplicity and equality. I respected Judaism and Zoroastrianism for their pedigree, and the apparent quality of their people. In the end I would wind up as one of those "spiritual types," at least until I returned from war, many years later.
I must now go through my revelations from Sunday.
My girlfriend, during the service, made two important observations. First, it appeared that we observed the doctrine of predestination, a thing we both found abhorrent. My sister and I had to admit that in the course of our lives we were never instructed in the particular theology of our sect. Our Sunday Schools were spent in discussion of Old Testament stories and history (sometimes with a comic bent, such as whether King David was a homosexual), and we only ever learned anything about this theology through experience.
The experience that stands out in my mind was during the last days of my mother's life. My father had been listening to our relations and the Officers talking (over and over), and realized that whenever they spoke of my mother going to see her mother, they never mentioned her father. Apparently, this was because my grandfather never did the "sinner's prayer" prior to his death. Therefore, they expected him to be in hell. Hell, that idea I thought so obsolescent was here in the fore. It was the first time in years I had heard it mentioned in any seriousness by anyone. I wondered how my mother would have possibly said this prayer prior to her death, given that she thought I was our dead dog and my sister was my unborn brother.
My girlfriend's other observation was that, in spite of the length of the Salvation Army's service (a brutal 1h40m), there was no time given to reflection. She, being a Catholic, found this very unusual. I can imagine she also found it annoying, as I can guess from conversations we've had that this time for reflection is the thing she treasures most from Mass. She concluded that our services were cult-like. Our services were long, loud, and overwhelming. They required no thinking, no response from the audience (barely an amen). One is passive for the entire time. You only ever feel connected to whoever is leading the service at the time. When I remarked that our officers must only ever marry other officers, it seemed like its status as a Cult was confirmed.
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