The Church That Hates Babies

Finding a good church to go to is very similar to dating. You might be set up by a friend ("It's a great church, good music, fabulous children's program...") or you might find it online, or simply decide to check out the one that you've driven by every day for the past two years. You may have avoided church for some time because the last church relationship you were in left a bitter taste in your mouth. Or you might just be experimenting with it all, unsure of what your religious preference is. But at some point in your life you might find yourself thinking, "I'm going to get out there."

I'm at this point right now, and I have found that visiting a new church on a Sunday morning feels very similar to going on a date. Making a good first impression is important to me, and so there's the whole figuring-out-what-to-wear issue. I spend an extra amount of time doing my hair and make up and fantasize about clever and interesting things to say as I meet people. While driving there I check my teeth and my breath, and I pluck any stray chin hairs that I might have missed in my dim bathroom light. I circle the block several times if I get there too early, not wanting to sit alone reading and re-reading the church bulliten.

I am usually very hopeful about whatever church I am visiting very possibly being "the one." I do this to a fault, however, in that I often make the mistake of seeing totally bizarre and unacceptable behavior as "charming" or "quirky." This, of course, is totally disastrous and it's what keeps me involved in bad, bad relationships for much longer than was ever needed. I'm beginning to learn my lesson.

I had a date this morning with a church that will remain unnamed and I was optimistic about it when Jack and I arrived. I chatted with a nice couple in the parking lot about the beautiful San Diego weather, and I could hear good music as we approached the main doors. A woman at the welcome center greeted us and gave us literature and asked me if I wanted a name tag to which I answered, "Sure!"

I placed my name tag on my sweater set and asked her where I should take Jack. She looked at me as if I had asked her where the aliens park their saucers and so I rephrased the question.

"Does your church have a nursery where I can take the baby?"

Still confused, she tilted her head to the side and said "I don't know."

I thought this was strange considering she was the welcome lady and it would seem appropriate that she know these types of things about the church that she's introducing visitors to. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt, thinking that she might be new to the welcome center or maybe just a little bit retarded.

I said, "Oh, okay. Well, hmm..."

"Most people just keep their children on their laps with them in the service," she finally said.

"Okay. That's great. He'll love that. Is it okay that he'll make little baby noises during the service?"

"I think it will be fine," she said, waving a bulliten in the air.

"Great! Thanks."

I was glad to know that there were churches out there that were kid-friendly like the one I had grown up in where kids weren't expected to keep still or quiet. I was getting excited again about the possibility of this church and I becoming a family that I was willing to overlook the crazy welcome lady, its one little flaw. After all, isn't it the crazies that the church is supposed to embrace?

Jack and I entered the church which I suddenly realized was actually a freemason's lodge. Now, you have to understand that the whole freemasonry thing totally creeps me out. I mean, I get a weird vibe about it all. And this started long before The DaVinci Code. It's mysterious, but in a creepy, eyes-wide-shut kind of way. I felt myself go cold as I walked beneath the compass and square emblem was hung above the door and past the walls that were lined with portraits of old men. Painted on one wall was an eye in the top of a pyramid with beams of light emanating from it, much like the one that's on the back of a U.S. dollar. On the other wall were glass cases filled with antiqued freemasonry aprons preserved in frames, sculptures of hands with bizarre things attached to the fingers, and other equally creepy items.

We walked past this freaky shit into the main sanctuary where a choir was singing and we found a seat in the back of the room. This room was quite a bit more inviting with beautiful flowers near the alter and silk fabrics draped behind the choir. Images of The Brotherhood began to fade away as the music lifted me, and new images of future church potlucks with my fellow choir members and Christmas pageants where Jack would be dressed as a shepherd played in my head.

Not long after we sat down the baby became restless, and so we stepped back out into the creepy Satan room where Jack played on the floor. A latecomer came in and said to me, "You should take him upstairs to the nursery! My daughter's there!"

"The nursery?" said I.

"Yeah, it's right upstairs. It's great. Hugh's up there today. He's a good guy. My 18- month old loves him."

"Thanks!"

Crazy welcome lady.

So we headed up the stairs and walked into the nursery where I found about 15 children engaged in a rousing rendition of the hokey pokey with Hugh, I presume, who happens to be at least 6 foot 11 and just about the lankiest, goofiest looking guy I've ever seen. He's leading the song, updating the words to fit a more spiritual agenda. "You put your love in, you take your anger out, you put your love in, and you shake it all about. You do the spirit pokey and you turn yourself about..."

Spirit pokey?

The 18-month old that belonged to the latecomer downstairs was toddling around up here by herself, not old enough to do the spirit pokey and turn herself about with Gumby and the rest of the kids. I stood there for a full minute or two, somewhere between mystified and annoyed, and left unnoticed by anyone but the 18-month old. No way was I leaving Jack there.

This date was not going well.

But I wasn't ready to give up on the church, yet. We headed back downstairs and into the mason room where I decided we would spend the rest of the service. From this room I could see the pastor through the door, and Jack could play on the floor and not disturb anybody. There were also some really comfortable, throne-like, velvet chairs that I could sit on that I imagined only the head mason guy was privileged to during their meetings where they did God only knows what.

The pastor spoke on the process of releasing one's attachment to the outcome of whatever situation it is that one might be in and trusting that God is good and will manifest what is for the highest and best. He was funny at times and the congregation would laugh, and he was serious at others and the congregation would take notes. The morning started to look better and fantasies of working together with the pastor on projects and creating a youth ministry program here began to bounce around in my head. My hope for this church and I having a future together was looking up.

However, this was quickly interrupted.

"Ma'am?" An usher popper her head out from behind the door, just inside the sanctuary.

"Yes?" I answered.

She looked at Jack. "He's a bit distracting," she said, wrinkling her nose in an effort to make her comment seem cute.

I looked at her, dumbstruck. Where did she want him to go? Gumby had his hands full upstairs and we were outside the door, in a separate room, at least 75 feet away from the last row of people. And besides all of this, Jack really wasn't being that loud.

I was over it. This was the final straw. Fuck this place. I suddenly hated everything about this church. I hated the crazy welcome lady and I couldn't believe I had allowed Jack to be anywhere near this crazy masonry stuff. I hated this usher and wanted to scream at her that this church was stupid and so was she. I thought about getting even with them by going upstairs and sneaking away with the 18-month old, just to prove that Hugh is an idiot.

Instead I scooped up Jack and his toys and said to him, "Let's go home." We walked back out the parking lot, he cooing at the sky and I laughing as I dial my girlfriends to tell them all about the crazy church I just met.