Of a place not-so-divine !!

I was asked this past Sunday by my Pastor to visit a prominent non-Pentecostal Church in Chennai to attend a Choir singing service. I considered it an unique request since, we as a fellowship are not quite tolerant about other forthright liberal or toned down neo-conservative ways of worship which dilute the essence of the scriptures, since "cold" and "luke-warm" are thermal states that do not find divine acceptance. But, I gathered that the request was only to draw-up a comparative study of the sound, light, seating and orchestral arrangements in other Christian services in relation to ours' to contemplate possible improvements. So, as I readied myself to go, I wanted to purposefully remain attired in my full-white Ceylon dhoti and cotton shirt set, not to in anyway draw the attention of the throng to myself but to testify to the Lord even through the smallest avenues possible. It was not an easy wardrobe call to make by some standards because, there have already been prior occasions when I was dismissed as a black sheep (or white raven) beating the accepted pattern, often inviting ridicule amidst my entire extended family and circle of friends for making head-strong choices to stand by convictions in even smaller matters as these.

But, having hailed from a nominal Protestant background, God alone be thanked that I have a close to impeccable understanding now as to what constitutes scripturally approved worship and expression of faith. So, as I drove to the venue, I was mulling on the job at hand and in parallel looking forward to the experience of a quick rendezvous, not reconciliation, with my native Church. As I slithered into the hall, I began to feel pretty out-of-place amidst the congregation, my would-have-been kinsfolk had I not yet embraced the truth in truth. I could observe how a serenely set place of worship that spelled devotion contrasted with the modern appeal of the well appointed noveau riche of the city, a distant cry from modesty and the "beauty of holiness". The aura was bathed in the distracting odours of fragrant cologne and strung jasmine buds secured to women's locks. The place echoed with the muffled clutter of small talk and people strutting in and out at will, giving it an appearance of anything but a place of divine presence. The young also, of both sexes hung around in groups to catch up with vain gossip oblivious of the worth of the ground they were on.

Worst of all, the very purpose of the program seemed to be nothing but a poorly assembled "show-case" of singing and instrumental talents to elicit plaudits for the performers and not to win praise for the true Lord and Master. Though it was a thoroughly annoying experience to sit through the program, I used it otherwise effectively to be engaged for a short while in one of my favorite hobbies, snob watching. However, possessing roots tracing back to this religious denomination, it stirred me up to remembrance on a more melancholic note, to sympathize in prayer for the state of so many of the loved ones, including many of my own next of kith and kin, who still remain in the cozy and proud web of their traditions, rituals, pomp and riches.