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Jeremy Goes To Church

COME ALL YE FAITHFUL…. Notes from a Porn Star Inside the House of The Lord.

by Jeremy Steele
Most of the following is actually true.
Last night Lucky dragged me to Midnight Mass for Christmas. The last time she did this I burst into flames upon entering, so this time I sprayed myself down with some fire-retardant beforehand, and upon entering was ok.
Before we left, Lucky insisted I wear something nicer than the the black shirt I was wearing with a picture of Tera Patrick bending forward
with her pendulous breasts almost bursting out of her dress, so I changed it to a “Life is good” shirt my mom sent me for Christmas.
We got there about a half hour early so to get a seat. The grand Cathedral was already fillled with a lot of people so we maneuvered into an aisle several rows from the back.  I looked around but Wankus was nowhere to be seen. The chandelier bulbs were dimmed. Live organ music was playing and it was nice.The house of worship was huge, with paintings of Jesus’ crucifiction presented in story-board fashion upon the upper portion of the walls. Above my head in front of us were the illustrated depictions of various illuminated saints.
Lucky told me that it doesn’t matter what you believe, that this place is great to sit back, relax and meditate. However, after sitting down we heard a couple of some sorts behind us cackling non-stop. After a few minutes I looked back and at them and immediately thought that the lead character in that facebook movie (“The Social Network”) seemed like Carol Burnett compared to these two.  I whispered to Lucky the question of whether I should ask them if they would not mind please shutting the fuck up. Instead we got up, walked several rows down. Then we heard an old couple and others behind us talking, and Lucky whispered to me, “Doesn’t anyone sit quietly in church anymore?” I had also could smell that someone had apparently splashed on way too much cologne. Someone wanted to smell good in front of God, I guess, but got a little too carried away.
At, the chandelier light bulbs went brighter. The pastor waved a smokey bell looking thing, called a sensor. I whispered to Lucky that I hope that guy walks that thing over in our direction to combat the cologne smell. More people entered our row, so Lucky and I shuffled down a bit, away from where we were sitting. A procession walked down the aisles, young and old dressed in white on black, with candles, a large adorned bible and a life-size construct of the baby Jesus.  A live choir and orchestra played above and behind us. The pastor spoke of asking forgiveness for our sins, so I thought of the time when I was a kid in day camp sneeking peeks at naked girls changing through an opening in a door grill. I also thought about my first job at a supermarket where I used to suck the gas out of whipped cream cans and drinking beers at age 15 in the mens’ room, and a couple of other unmentionables.  At one point we were asked to stand, but someone erroneously brought down the wooden thing for kneeling and hit Lucky and I in the ankles. We looked at each, with the facial expression of “What an idiot!”. Then later when it was time to lower the wooden thing to kneel on, Lucky whispered to me “Kneel, bitch”. I complied. After that, I followed Lucky down the aisle as we were all given a piece of wafer to eat. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to give a Hail Mary to the Pastor or not.
While I didn’t necessarily believe in the literal interpretations of the bible they were advocating, including the notion that we are all sinners born of sin, and that Christ was born of a literal virgin, I still thought the overall experience was pleasant and even spirtual.  He spoke of miracles such as all of the mine workers that all survived after being trapped for many days, following all of our collective prayers. Some of the singing was very nice, especially “Silent Night”. They also sang “Come all ye faithful” and passed a basket on a long stick in front of everyone to drop cash into. I dropped a $10.00 and then took a $5.00 bill back as changed (j/k). I knew the Lord would understand.
I thought it was a nice experience. I felt a power that was strong although not as powerful as the time I was in a guru’s gathering many years ago,  named Sri Chinmoy. That experience was interesting. My dad, his girlfriend of the time, and I all happened to be wearing black. We were all late arriving into a big room filled with devotees who were all wearing white. We found the only three available seats, all in a row, and sat down towards the front middle. I felt conspicuously odd and self-conscious. But soon following a long meditative moment of silence there was a power I felt that was incredibly intense and supernatural; a very strong energy that burgeoned out of the extended silence. After that began a series of musical performances that just went on and on and on, and became very redundant, so the three of us, dressed in black in a room of white got up and left. I’ll never forget that moment. I later was taken to a restaurant owned by the guru, and noticed him from afar and he ironically had a very miserable look on his face, suprisingly. The waitress was friendly, but a horrible, mindless and forgetful servant. My dad commented that the help here was always the worst he’s ever experienced. Years later I would read Chinmoy was accused of sexual indiscretions with some of his devoted female followers.
My point to all of this is that the belief systems don’t matter. When people gather, sit silently and meditatively and offer themselves prostrate to the divine myserious powers of the universe, one can tap into a power. Also, Lucky said she prayed for me more than once and the things she prayed for have come true, like getting more work, and finding a nice new place to live.
So come all ye’ faithful and unfaithful. The House of the Lord awaits and beliefs are not necessary prerequesites in order to experience life’s special moments and little miracles.

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