Stimulating Church?
I dare say we’ve all been to church at least once in our lives. Based on our personal experiences, we either love it or hate it. But one good thing is, by having some sort of religion, at least people know which church they’re staying away from. My thought has always been, since they usually take the offering before the sermon, couldn’t we just skip the sermon and go straight to lunch? I gave, I feel less guilty, let’s eat!
I’ve heard people say they stay out of church because it’s boring. Too many church services begin at 11 sharp and end at twelve dull. But 20 years ago I had a church experience that definitely was anything but boring.
I was visiting an acquaintance up North when the topic of my position as a Music Director at a church came up in the conversation. He was agnostic—basically someone who doesn’t know what to believe. So I was surprised when he said, “I’d like to take you to my church.” Believe me, the last thing I wanted to do on my vacation was go to church, but to be nice, I agreed to go.
It turned out his “church” was a beach…
A very beautiful beach…
A very beautiful nude beach!
I went along, strictly for scientific research, of course. I was nervous about stepping out on the sand in the same way I’ve been nervous about lying down on the bed in a low-rent motel; there’s no telling what’s taken place there before I arrived. But being a male of our species, I was titillated by the visual prospects and—according to the sign—it was a “clothing optional” beach, so I didn’t have to remove my clothes if I didn’t want to. So I opted to remain clothed.
There were few beachgoers that day. Most in their 70’s and 80’s. Elongated, low-hanging fruit was in abundance in both genders, which while visually “safe”, brought to bare my own possible future physical forecast. We made it across the sand to the water’s edge where I had an uninterrupted view of the ocean and the horizon—thankfully. Standing there, I began to re-think my option. I thought, “I’ve never been here before, I will never come here again. I don’t know anyone here, I’m far from home so…when in Rome….” Therefore, (phsst) arrivederci pantaloni!
I stood facing the water looking like Yul Brynner in ‘The King & I’—without his pants. I stood there worried about the possibility of a rising…tide. Thankfully, it was only my confidence that grew as I became more accustomed to my exposure. When I did turn back toward the beach, I noticed my companion had also arrivederci-ed his pantaloni. We began walking along the water together as only two heterosexual, newly-naked men could walk together by water’s edge. That is still one of the oddest experiences I’ve had in “church”—but it wasn’t to be the most perplexing!
As we walked, I began to enjoy the beauty of the place—the cliffs, the vegetation, the sand, the water. It’s still the most beautiful beach I’ve ever been on, its inhabitants notwithstanding. I almost forgot I was sans vȇtements. I was free and unfettered in nature. What could be more natural? Until my friend pointed out there was a couple coming toward us. Suddenly, freedom was not so natural. I quickly took in the approaching couple. They were male and female; and they had definitely taken the clothing optional sign seriously. This wouldn’t have been a problem if they were as old as the other octogenarians we’d encountered, but she was 30-something, completely naked and…well-balanced. There was no way to hide—nowhere to hide. Nothing to hide in!
I tried to think of anyone masculine and unattractive; Richard Nixon, Martina Navratilova, anyone! I focused on the man, concentrating as hard as I could on his conspicuous nose hair. We all stopped and my friend began a conversation. A conversation in the nude! With another man and woman!
As the conversation continued, something strange happened. Absolutely nothing happened. The more we talked, the more—I hate to say it but—the more normal it became. We were just 4 people talking on a beach, enjoying the day. With, I will admit, a bit of a bonus. But it was more normal than I could have imagined. Our talk ended and each couple went their own way.
All in all, it was a church-going experience I’m glad I had. It wasn’t a church I would attend regularly, (though I was asked if I would like to become a member). My feelings are, sunburned skin aside, there are some liturgical vestments that should remain firmly in place.
