A Kingdom
of Priests
“So who is the pastor?”
I had not heard a word
from anyone who was
projecting himself as the
leader and was curious.
6
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H
Here I was sitting in a congregation
listening for the hundredth time. The pastor
was preaching the usual Sunday morning
message. “You must be born again!” or
“Jesus is coming soon!” Or it could have
been any one of his fundamental favorites.
We never went beyond the basic doctrines
of the Christian faith.
As I looked across the sea of members I
saw scores of women. A sprinkling of
men were scattered here and there. The
children had already been dismissed to
Sunday School in the hall next door.
My eyes began to flutter. I had had a
SHARE|MAGAZINE January - March 2015
very difficult week. There was nothing that
could stimulate my interest as a man. I
have a hunting instinct. I like a battle, a real
fight. The pastor was not saying anything
that could challenge my thoughts. I had
already heard it all.
Besides all this, the ‘stage’ had already
been set with beautiful flowers, the songs
we sang felt very feminine. We had sung
‘I come to the garden alone, while the dew
is still on the roses.’ I don’t mind roses, but
I would rather watch a soccer match, or
even a good fight between two men, or be
out myself trying to catch fish, or knocking
up a wooden shed for my tools at home.
MEN FIND CHURCH BORING!
After I read David Murrow’s book ‘Why
Men Hate Going To Church’ I understood
what he was talking about. We do
everything in church to drive away the
men then we expect them to come.