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SUNDAY CONGREGATION
A Chris Parker, Comedian fb.com/itschrisparker @chrisparker11
Now in my thirties, I’ve found myself s a child, Sunday mornings were always associated with the performance of my once again going through the performance of getting ready on a Sunday morning and family of six going to church, preceded heading out to a holy ritual. However, this by the even greater performance of us getting service doesn’t recognise just one god. There dressed and ready for church. We attended a rather plain Presbyterian church down the road is bread, sometimes wine, and a whole lot of community – the gathering of the Sunday from our house. Sunday mornings involved us being dressed like the von Trapp Family Singers Brunch. I appreciate how much of a ditzy millennial I’m painting myself as, but truly in matching outfits having our hair brushed Sunday morning brunch is a very sacred and side-parted like Wall Street bankers and space for me. paraded down the street to Mass. Over our stacked hotcakes and sides of There, we would feebly sing a few church standards that no one really knew the tune to bacon, we reflect on our struggles of the and were always in the wrong key. The service week. We share personal insecurities for was a little drab, classic Presbyterian frugality. the table to solve and engage in deeply political discourse about who is responsible Communion was once in a blue moon and for saving our planet. It’s a safe space for was always watered-down Ribena and a all to attended, no matter if you’re straight, stale $3 herb and cheese pull apart. While gay, or hungover, and is set at the much the Sunday School teachers tried their best, more manageable time of 11.30am, which there’s only so many re-runs of Veggie Tales is considered the break of dawn in the a young man can watch before something weekend. I’m not out here to diminish or unlocks in his brain, and he’s going to start mock anyone else’s faith or god, each to talking to the cauliflowers in Fresh Choice for real. So, Mum gave us the option at the age of their own. I’m just here to recognise that 10, we could come to church with her and Dad community and faith come in all forms and and pretend we liked it and be forgiven for our practices, sometimes it’s bread and wine in weeks’ worth of sins, or we could stay at home a small wooden church, and other times it’s sourdough and cold brew in a bustling café and watch the Home and Away Omnibus, and with a 20-minute wait for a table. Amen. there ended my relationship with church.
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