YOU DID WHAT?
I joined a church last weekend. I got dressed up, pinned a red flower to my shirt, repeated some words and had some folks congratulate me.
I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I really wanted more. Some sort of ritual involving bloodletting. Or a test. You know, take this pitcher of water and an everything bagel and sit on the banks of the Potomac for a month. So much for self-sacrifice.
This whole church business has reminded me how messed up the adult world is. We have our priorities all wack. Even in church. And so, I propose a New Reformed Church of Children.
Why do churches separate children from adults? If old people are allowed in, so should children. Old people and children have a lot in common, they're both chronologically closer to the meaning of life than the average adult. They may not be able to articulate it, but just watch a kid smile and you know you've got a little baby buddha throwing dharma at you in spades. Blow some bubbles from the altar and watch all the boys and girls do the right thing. Pop, pop, pop. Give a toddler the pulpit and you'll see Love in the darndest of places. Give up the structure of your important life and realize that you had this thing figured out years ago.
I'm going to bring this idea to the board of directors of my church. I think they'll eat it up.
[SECRET SERIOUS NOTE: Yes, I did join the church. Yes, I am happy. Yes, I think you are going to hell.]