The warm up station of the Salvation Army church was small and felt jammed with ten people inside. Edward introduced me to John who said he wasn't going to the church service because he doesn't believe in that stuff. A woman in ragged clothes and runny nose (I actually saw very few people who didn't have runny noses), spent ten minutes perusing the free literature rack. I recognized not one of the books. It looked like they were all Salvation Army titles.
People in SA uniforms busied themselves walking through the warm up station and into the locked chapel area. It wasn't ten o'clock yet and they were still preparing the service. Two guys in uniforms and instruments, a cornet and a tuba, walked tnrough. Another uniformed lady walked outside and shouted, "You can't do that here. This isn't a park!" I have no idea what they were doing.
John eyed me suspiciously and said, "You don't look homeless."
I said, "I'm not. I'm here as Edward's guest."
Satisfied, he went gack to staring into space.
When the doors finally opened and church goers entered the chapel Edward apparently forgot I was there and sat alone in the front row. I sat speechless in the second to the back row for the next hour while cacophony reigned. Despite a bulletin and order of service, the schedule was thrown off in the first three minutes. Here are the ingredients that assaulted my senses for 60 minutes. These are not sequential, they are synchronous.
A TV up front played a Christmas themed DVD.
The brass duo played.
A man with a mop wiped up what I hoped was spilled coffee.
People shouted nonsense utterances.
People, including Edward, chatted noisily while helping themselves to free coffee and donuts off to the side.
Through a glass window up front I could see another meeting going on, people standing, walking, talking. I suspect it was for those unwilling to attend the church service, perhaps an AA meeting.
Someone read John 1:1-14.
Someone preached.
Derelict men and women wandered the aisles.
For special music a lady in her seventies with tatoos, pink hair, wearing tons of jewelry including an LED flashing ring, brought a child's doll up front that, when you pushed her button, sang a Christmas Carol. "I bought this on sale after Christmas last year and now I finally get to use her." The singing doll was her musical accompaniment.
Another person read John 1:1-14 again.
A guy with a guitar sang Christmas Carols.
Those who could track with all this loved it. When one of the many speakers said, "Jesus is the reason for the season," whoops and hollars went up.
The MC asked, "Does everyone have a bulletin?" When she learned we did she shouted, "Praise the Lord."
Several women stood with raised arms.
They lit the third Advent Candle.
They took an offering (another five dollar donation).
What struck me about this cacophony was the joy it brought so many people. Edward sat in the front row eating it up. He asked clarifying questions. The message was the same message everyone has heard who has ever been to an evangelical church. Salvation Army workers all deserve medals.
In a previous post I mentioned the energy and dynamism of New York city. There was a spiritual energy in this noisy church service. It's not something I'd enjoy week after week--tuba has never been my instrument of choice--but such a meeting is a labor of love by the long suffering and harried officers.
When the service ended I walked up to Edward, thanked him for the invitation, and said godbye. He never asked where I came from, where I lived, or where I was going. He was plotting where to get his next meal.
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