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Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Monday, October 1, 2007
Not the best? Read this...
Alrightness is mostly not an alright goal in American life today. To say that something is "alright" implies that it somehow is not the best, not great.
We at the Church of Might Alrightness (COMA) believe that to be 'alright' is the best thing something or someone can possibly be. It is very different than to be "great" or "perfect". Those words have killed more people (''Strivers' in our language) than all other words combined. The stress of trying to be great or perfect is simply killer.
"Alright", on the other hand, is very relaxed. It is a word that speaks to the realities of life. We all know somewhere inside that we are mixtures of good and bad, great and ho-hum. Yet we are exhorted to 'be all you can be', to be the prettiest, hunkiest, greatest, sexiest, mostest in everything we do. This is a recipe for low self-esteem, burnout, and spiritual bankruptcy.
If we accept our Mighty Alrightness, we see ourselves and the world realistically, and we accept the good with the bad, the pretty with the plain, the unevenness of life.
We enjoy life more.
So go ahead and be human. Be alright. It's a good thing to be.
We at the Church of Might Alrightness (COMA) believe that to be 'alright' is the best thing something or someone can possibly be. It is very different than to be "great" or "perfect". Those words have killed more people (''Strivers' in our language) than all other words combined. The stress of trying to be great or perfect is simply killer.
"Alright", on the other hand, is very relaxed. It is a word that speaks to the realities of life. We all know somewhere inside that we are mixtures of good and bad, great and ho-hum. Yet we are exhorted to 'be all you can be', to be the prettiest, hunkiest, greatest, sexiest, mostest in everything we do. This is a recipe for low self-esteem, burnout, and spiritual bankruptcy.
If we accept our Mighty Alrightness, we see ourselves and the world realistically, and we accept the good with the bad, the pretty with the plain, the unevenness of life.
We enjoy life more.
So go ahead and be human. Be alright. It's a good thing to be.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Relevance of This Church
So today we consider what makes this church particularly relevant.
As cited in yesterday's post, there are not many churches with a robust sense of humor.(Although that's alright... they are about serious work in the world.)
This church is particularly relevant for our time because it is a collaborative creation that is ever-changing. We're just having fun, so we can choose and un-choose whatever we want for our church structure, scripture, heroic iconic figures, music, history, etc. We are malleable, and that's very modern and mighty alright.
Yesterday, for instance, I proposed ketchup (also spelled "Catsup")as our primary sacrament. A stunned silence greeted this proposal; not a single one of you was outraged or moved enough to comment, although this is up for being a key ingredient, so to speak, in our church.
Today, I propose that we adopt our first Heroic Iconic Figure, a person who so exemplifies the blissful state of alrightness that he or she is embraced as worthy of adoration and emulation.
Drumroll, please... our first selectee is... Garrison Keillor!
We believe Mr. Keillor qualifies for semi-sainthood because, first and foremost, he has a soft but penetrating sense of humor. He also has one of those faces you can't stop staring at. A face that he must have looked at early on and decided, "This is not the face of an NFL linebacker. I think I'll be a richly intense writer."
He also has one heck of a marketing sense. I mean, "A Prairie Home Companion"?
All the words except "the" plop so meaningfully and gently into the heart... "prairie"... "home"... "Companion"... all words that are designed by this word artist for maximum emotional impact.
We aspire.
So we gain layers of relevance as a church everyday, with decisions like this, that add veritas and meaning to the already burnished brightness of "Alright-ness".
You, too, can be a co-creator of this church. We still need church hymns, relevant written literature, an appropriately fabricated history, hierarchy of church positions and nominees to fill each one.
We need an archive of stories about your personal encounters with the Mighty Alrightness.
Don't you think we also need symbols for the church? A banner or five, maybe some statues or distinctive stained glass.
Take a look at another extremely relevant church for today at http://www.venganza.org. there you can partake at the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
These people are having a lot more fun than we are...
Yet.
As cited in yesterday's post, there are not many churches with a robust sense of humor.(Although that's alright... they are about serious work in the world.)
This church is particularly relevant for our time because it is a collaborative creation that is ever-changing. We're just having fun, so we can choose and un-choose whatever we want for our church structure, scripture, heroic iconic figures, music, history, etc. We are malleable, and that's very modern and mighty alright.
Yesterday, for instance, I proposed ketchup (also spelled "Catsup")as our primary sacrament. A stunned silence greeted this proposal; not a single one of you was outraged or moved enough to comment, although this is up for being a key ingredient, so to speak, in our church.
Today, I propose that we adopt our first Heroic Iconic Figure, a person who so exemplifies the blissful state of alrightness that he or she is embraced as worthy of adoration and emulation.
Drumroll, please... our first selectee is... Garrison Keillor!
We believe Mr. Keillor qualifies for semi-sainthood because, first and foremost, he has a soft but penetrating sense of humor. He also has one of those faces you can't stop staring at. A face that he must have looked at early on and decided, "This is not the face of an NFL linebacker. I think I'll be a richly intense writer."
He also has one heck of a marketing sense. I mean, "A Prairie Home Companion"?
All the words except "the" plop so meaningfully and gently into the heart... "prairie"... "home"... "Companion"... all words that are designed by this word artist for maximum emotional impact.
We aspire.
So we gain layers of relevance as a church everyday, with decisions like this, that add veritas and meaning to the already burnished brightness of "Alright-ness".
You, too, can be a co-creator of this church. We still need church hymns, relevant written literature, an appropriately fabricated history, hierarchy of church positions and nominees to fill each one.
We need an archive of stories about your personal encounters with the Mighty Alrightness.
Don't you think we also need symbols for the church? A banner or five, maybe some statues or distinctive stained glass.
Take a look at another extremely relevant church for today at http://www.venganza.org. there you can partake at the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
These people are having a lot more fun than we are...
Yet.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Why A Church 2
I have become weary of churches that have no sense of humor, but a very robust capacity for judgment and negativity. (If you are a member of one of those churches, it's alright. You're learning something important.)
When the phrase, "Church of the Mighty Alrightness" popped into my head years ago, I was delighted. Usually things that pop up in my head are much less juicy; questions about what I'll have for dinner, observations about people I meet, things like that.
This was different.
Back in my younger days, I was an actual minister in a real church, and I soon left that calling, running like a scalded cat.
The projections people put onto a minister are sterile and frightening. You're supposed to be a kindly, otherworldly ghost. Always helpful, full of God, knowing the Way, don't drink, smoke, or have sex. (I said these are PROJECTIONS... "shoulds". We certainly know in this modern age that churchly agents are much more human than that.)
But if you are a GOOD minister, the expectation often is that you're not very human, and I didn't enjoy that at all.
So when this phrase teased my brain, I started having great fun with it. I think there's lots of room for a church that doesn't take itself too seriously, a spoof-church that has fun and still keeps an eye on what's important -- our inherent alrightness.
So will you help me form it?
We need to do all kinds of stuff.
Like, what's our sacrament? In a certain huge denomination I won't name, they use wafers and wine.
I propose we declare ketchup sacramental.
Think about it. Ketchup is something you can use every day. If you're into the blood of the body of the lamb thing, it's red, and you can put it on statues. And everytime you eat it, you feel good. On a hotdog, a hamburger, on your meatloaf. You feel full, grateful and good. Isn't that the point?
Now, we also need various official offices (department of redundancy departments), which I'd like you to suggest and fulfill.
There's a little widget you can click at the bottom right hand of this post (I know, "At the right hand"... the significance is not lost upon me) where you can comment on it. Step right up and help form your church, the Church of the Mighty Alrightness.
Come have some religious fun. Until now, that was mostly an oxymoron.
When the phrase, "Church of the Mighty Alrightness" popped into my head years ago, I was delighted. Usually things that pop up in my head are much less juicy; questions about what I'll have for dinner, observations about people I meet, things like that.
This was different.
Back in my younger days, I was an actual minister in a real church, and I soon left that calling, running like a scalded cat.
The projections people put onto a minister are sterile and frightening. You're supposed to be a kindly, otherworldly ghost. Always helpful, full of God, knowing the Way, don't drink, smoke, or have sex. (I said these are PROJECTIONS... "shoulds". We certainly know in this modern age that churchly agents are much more human than that.)
But if you are a GOOD minister, the expectation often is that you're not very human, and I didn't enjoy that at all.
So when this phrase teased my brain, I started having great fun with it. I think there's lots of room for a church that doesn't take itself too seriously, a spoof-church that has fun and still keeps an eye on what's important -- our inherent alrightness.
So will you help me form it?
We need to do all kinds of stuff.
Like, what's our sacrament? In a certain huge denomination I won't name, they use wafers and wine.
I propose we declare ketchup sacramental.
Think about it. Ketchup is something you can use every day. If you're into the blood of the body of the lamb thing, it's red, and you can put it on statues. And everytime you eat it, you feel good. On a hotdog, a hamburger, on your meatloaf. You feel full, grateful and good. Isn't that the point?
Now, we also need various official offices (department of redundancy departments), which I'd like you to suggest and fulfill.
There's a little widget you can click at the bottom right hand of this post (I know, "At the right hand"... the significance is not lost upon me) where you can comment on it. Step right up and help form your church, the Church of the Mighty Alrightness.
Come have some religious fun. Until now, that was mostly an oxymoron.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
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