Sunday Night Was the Worst

When I was growing up in the church of Christ, we had to go to church three times a week: Sunday morning for Bible study followed by a worship service that included communion, Sunday evening for a second worship service sans communion (some congregations do offer communion at the Sunday night service for people who have to work on Sunday mornings, but the congregation of my childhood was hardcore and only offered it once each week), and back again on Wednesday evening for another Bible study.

Sunday night was the worst for a couple of reasons. First, it meant we always had to miss "The Wonderful World of Disney," which was an awesome TV show. At the time, it was a source of great frustration to me that on Mondays, all my friends would be talking about whatever great movie had aired on Sunday night, and I would be sitting there like a lump and feeling angry that I had missed it.

Second, it was exhausting to go back to church on Sunday night after enduring 2 or more hours of church on Sunday morning. We couldn't go anywhere with our friends or make plans for Sunday afternoons because we had to be ready to go back. It meant that Sundays were just a wash--all church, no fun whatsoever. It was also hard to get all my homework done. Half the time, I ended up bringing it with me in the car because there wouldn't be enough time to do it when we finally got home after the second service. When I think about all the hours we logged at church and church-related activities, it's kind of a miracle that I managed to get any homework done at all.

Third, the Sunday night service was always extremely boring, even more so than Sunday morning. At least on Sunday morning you had the communion to add interest to things. Sunday night was when the preacher liked to do "word studies," where you study a book from the Bible verse-by-verse, word-by-word. It took us two YEARS to get through the book of Romans. Ugh. 

As you might imagine, the Sunday night service was the one with the lowest attendance. Even a quarter to a third of the regular members ditched, and we almost never had visitors on Sunday nights. We hardly had visitors at all, but on the rare occasions that any showed up, it was always Sunday morning. I think it was because of the low attendance and almost guaranteed lack of visitors that Sunday night was always the night that people chose to start trouble.

At the end of each service, the song leader would say, "Do any of the men [because women were not allowed to speak] of the congregation have any announcements to make?" Most of the time, no one would say anything, or if they did, it was something innocuous like, "Let's all remember to keep Sister Widow in our prayers because her lumbago is acting up," or "Don't forget that we're hosting a potluck at our farm after church next Sunday." But every now and then, some Brother Axe-to-Grind would use that as an opportunity to jump up front and denounce someone else in the congregation over some sin, whether real or perceived. It was insane! Chaos would erupt, people would start yelling at each other, and I would sit there wishing I could die or at least be tele-ported elsewhere. I HATED IT. I just wanted to die from the shame and embarrassment of being affiliated with that bunch of crazies. What's funny to me in retrospect is that the COC goes on and on about everything being done "decently and in order," but that church is by far the most disorderly and chaotic of any church I've ever attended.

The worst part was that such scenes inevitably meant that the men of the congregation would have to have an emergency business meeting to discuss the controversy, which meant getting home even later than usual that night. It got so that whenever we would reach the end of the service and the song leader would ask whether there were announcements, I would hold my breath and desperately pray that no one said anything controversial. Sadly, those were probably the truest and sincerest prayers I ever prayed in the COC.

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