The "Please don't freak out Pep Talk."

The time has come, the moment arrived. I now have to consider what I have been thinking of as my "Welcome to JRA 'please don't freak out' pep talk."

From the first Sunday, I have been inviting people to visit James River with me. Early on, because it was just such a social oddity. Lately, because it's a social oddity AND because I think it's a damn good church.

However, also from the first, I've known that the place requires some preface for those who are either not a fan of churches, or just not acquainted with "charismania" (and together, those comprise almost the entirety of my peer group, North and South). I'd like to prevent my guests from walking out in the first five minutes, and that will require some well-chosen words of warning.

I knew this was coming. My mom is already making plans to fly down here for next year's DFL conference. My housemate came for the last, open session of DFL, and invited her mom and sister-in-law for next year. A good friend of mine currently in Baltimore said he'd like to get down here to visit with me. My best friend from Chicago suggested she'd come if for no other reason than for her "sociological curiosity."

So I've been mentally drafting, and editing for a while now. Nonetheless, I was surprised when my coworker bounced out to me this morning, and said "What time does your church start on Sunday, because I really want to go with you." Admittedly, she wants to see the spectacle.

Thus, the debut date of the "Please don't freak Pep Talk" got pushed up. It went something like this:

"Really? Are you sure? I mean, I'm not trying to talk you out of it or anything. I just want to make sure that you know what you're getting into. There'll be lots of arm-waving during song time. The music is really loud, and very modern. There's a guitar, and drums, and a technicolor choir. Sometimes, people moan as they pray. It's weird, but you know, I guess the Lord is really pleasing them [enter nervous laughter at smutty church joke]. Also, they talk during prayer, so don't be alarmed, they're just prayin' out loud. The preaching is phenomenal, but there's a group of men who sit to my right who really whoop it up during the sermon. Amen this, amen that. You know. But...and this is a big but. [Dramatic slowing] Please remember, that no matter how weird it looks, or sounds, or feels...these are good people. They're kind. They're loving. They're welcoming. They'd do anything for you. And though I don't agree with everything they say, and sometimes I think what they say is downright backwards, maybe even arrogant, there's some truth to be found in all of this. SO...I'm so glad you're coming! We're gonna have fun!"

So, there it was. Not perfect. But it sufficed on the pop-fly. There will undoubtedly be a reiteration only moments before entering the building.

I'm wondering, though--why do I care? Why do I care if she hates it, if she loves it, if she thinks they're all crackpots? I'm feeling oddly protective of these people. Which might be condescending, they can probably protect themselves. Then again, I continually get the sense that they don't realize how far their world is from ours. How foreign it looks. I care what she thinks because I want her to be able to get past the junk to see what is truly great about James River.

That's kind of odd given that I can't even decide what I think about salvation. I'm starting to wonder if maybe I'm not "elected" so to speak. More on that some other time. For now, I've got a fellow heckler this Sunday!