disco fever

Last night Ken & I went to my son Julian's band concert. For some reason it wasn't at the usual venue for our high school band concerts, but was held instead at the local Baptist MegaChurch.

MegaChurch.

Now there's a true postmodern-type word for you, like Mega Latte, or MegaPlex, or MegaDeath. Only in this country have churches been megasized, at the same time corporations are downsizing. "Depressed about losing your job? Don't worry, worship with thousands of others like you this Sunday in a church that takes up several city blocks!."

Feel the warmth.

The parking lots surrounding this structure can and do hold thousands of cars, and it's well-known that on Sunday mornings many policemen are hired to direct all those thousands of fossil fuel-burning cars in and out of the parking lot so total vehicular chaos doesn't erupt and cause a traffic jam the likes of which this town has never seen. That would be called a MegaClusterfuck.

Even though there certainly were a lot of cars at church on a normal Tuesday night, traffic-directing policemen were not necessary, and we got us a dandy parking spot right in the front acre of the parking lot. It was a lot like going to the mall, and once inside, it was a lot like BEING in a mall. "Wow honey, they have a BOOKSTORE." "Ohmygod they have a COFFEESHOP." "Look, there's a daycare center."

No, I decided, it wasn't just like being in a mall. It was more like being in a small town. Unfortunately, time was short and the concert was about to start, so we couldn't spend anymore time sightseeing on Jesus Street.

Entering the "Worship Center" where the concert was being held was like walking into Kemper Arena. It was big. Hell, it was enormous. I think the entire population of a small Aisian country could fit in that room. I could imagine entire Aisian family units bringing in their hibachis, cooking up some noodles and fish, visiting the bookstore, catching a latte on the way to the daycare center, then rolling out their pallets on the floor and bedding down for a good night's sleep - just another day in paradise. I engaged this wonderful fantasy while the bands played their pieces and Ken winced in pain everytime he heard the band go flat (he has perfect pitch. I hate him for that). I was enjoying imagining myself moving into this little utopia, being adopted by a pleasant, smiling Aisian family , and eventually being elected President and Supreme Ruler Of The Land, when I felt Ken nudging me back to reality. "Hey" he said, pointing up at the ceiling. "Isn't that a Disco Ball??"

A DISCO BALL?

I looked up. YES IT CERTAINLY WAS A DISCO BALL!!!
Hanging above the main stage.
What the hell did Baptists need with a disco ball? Especially since they don't even allow DANCING? (I think). Do Baptists regularly incorporate laser light shows in their services? Was I missing something here??? Have Baptists become the New Hip Religion?

"You know" he said, "they have a Saturday night service here..."

Ohmygod. it all became clear to me then. The disco ball is for Saturday Night Fever Services/Laser Light Show Extravaganzas. This would be a real draw for the youngsters. A great way to lure your sullen, slovenly, anarchist teenager to church by draping worship in a cheesy 70s cliche. In-ter-es-ting.

We spent the rest of the concert pondering the many uses a disco ball could serve in church and I felt wistful as we left the building to search for our car so we could return to our dark, dank, sad lives outside of the comforting womb-like atmosphere of MegaUtopia. "Goodbye Disco Ball," I thought. "Goodbye bookstore." "Goodbye Christian Connection Coffeeshop." "Goodbye daycare center." And with a true sadness, I bid goodbye to my adopted Aisian family.

I enjoyed being your Supreme Leader.