Obstacles: Keeping the Main Thing the Main Thing (Part I)

There's nothing like a good Bible Study to stir the pen. Okay, the keyboard.

I'll keep this short, but first a little housekeeping:

1. This writing is not about bashing your religion.
2. This writing is not about bashing your denomination.
3. This writing is not about bashing you.
4. If you take offense, well, I'll finish this item 4 later . . .

I'm sure you know the story of the woman who always cut a head of cabbage in half, cooked one half and discarded the other, because that's they way her mother did it, and that's the way her mother's mother did it. It turns out that her grandmother did it that way because her pot could only hold half a head of cabbage.

Alright, it might have not been a head of cabbage, but surely you see the message here: Oftentimes we do things out of tradition. At least that's the word that is frequently tossed about as the salve to heal all frustrations spawned by the never-ending question: Why? Why? Why this way and not that? Why?

Earlier this year while conducting a choir rehearsal this exchange took place:

Andrea: You know folks, I only see you a couple of times a year and we have a limited time to prepare for worship, so would you hold down the excess talk so we can get through this?

Male choir member: Well, you know, we have our traditions.

Andrea: Yes, and your traditions might take you straight to hell.

As a child I wondered why we do some of the things we do, especially among our church congregations and in our houses of worship. Why must we wear white on first Sunday? Why must someone plop that little doily thing on my head while I'm playing the communion service? What do you mean I have to cover my head? What do you think that stuff that grows out of my scalp is for? (Not intentionally, but since I tend to move around a bit when playing the piano, that little doily thing often landed on the floor.)

And just a few years ago, my best friend said to me: I'd love to come to your Christmas concert but I just have on a plain dress. My reply: Well, I'm sure you'll fit in just fine. Why was this little exchange so weird to me? As usual, I'm glad you asked. Until recently I suffered tremendously with insomnia, sometimes going for three or four days without real sleep. I decided to try a change of venue and checked into a downtown hotel for a couple of nights. (Checking into hometown hotels was nothing new for me. I did the same thing while in seminary when I had writer's block.) After checking out of the Crowne Plaza, I drove straight down Main Street, and as I approached my Place of worship, and it being Sunday and all, I had a tremendous yearning to attend the 8:30 worship service as I normally do. I parked my Jeep in the usual spot, and approached the side entrance, tentatively, just as our Minister of Music arrived. He greeted me with his normal gigantic smile, eyes twinkling, teeth flashing, and greeted me: hey girl! Come on in here! What was so unusual about that? Girl was sporting a warmup suit and athletic shoes.

The really cool thing is that no one who spoke to me that day gave any indication that I grossed them out because of my attire. They looked at me -- not my togs.

Now, before I dwell on clothing and the reader thinks it's just about fashion, let's move on. Since I promised to keep this short, I'll have to deem this writing Part I, and will end with this:

Traditions aren't all they're cracked up to be, according to Paul in the second chapter of Galatians.

News flash: Not only is it not about tradition, it's not about the rituals. And it's not even about the religion. But it's all about the relationship.