If the Church Was Like the World Cup


I walked into church this past Sunday.

That’s strange, I thought. The place is packed. There must be thousands of new people here. I walked up to one guy who was wearing a gold cross, a “Got Jesus?” t-shirt, a WWJD bracelet, and a hat with a fish on it. I asked him if this was his first time attending a church.

“Yeah it is, but dude, I’ve always loved church. I mean, it’s totally awesome.”? I then asked him what he loved about church. “Well you know. It’s just amazing. You know, there’s stuff about God and prayer. And, what’s that book called?”

I just looked at him and kept going.


As I walked toward the main sanctuary I heard a strange noise. It sounded like…

“Hey man here’s your trumpet,” someone shouted in my ear. A young couple was standing at the entrance to the sanctuary, handing trumpets to everyone who came in. I looked around and saw that everyone in the auditorium was wildly blowing on their trumpet.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” I shouted.

“You just blow on it the whole service. Especially when you get excited, like when the worship band starts playing something by Chris Tomlin or the pastor gives an awesome illustration from the show Lost.” The noise in the auditorium was deafening, but nobody seemed to care.

Another greeter came over and asked the young couple if they could help him clean up a mess in the bathroom. The couple instantly flopped forward, landing dramatically on the ground. They both grabbed their ankles and began rolling around on the ground. Apparently they couldn’t help with the bathroom.


The worship band got started, and everything was going well until the worship leader tried an unexpected key change. Suddenly the band was thrown into chaos. Instantly the congregation began booing and throwing bulletins, Bible covers, and anything else they could get there hands on. Finally the band got back on track and everything resumed as normal.

After worship, the offering basket was passed around. Every time someone put a significant donation in they yelled, “TTTTTTIIIIITTTTTHHHHHEEEEE!” and the crowd broke into applause.


Then the pastor came up on stage and began his sermon. Things were progressing normally (other than the continuous trumpeting) for 15 minutes when the pastor suddenly stopped. He pointed at a man who was walking toward the restroom.

“No using the restroom until minute 17 of the service!” The pastor then pointed to a woman who was fanning herself with a bulletin.

“No right handed fanning,” he shouted. He then proceeded to mysteriously disallow several other things, such as chewing spearmint gum and taking notes with a BIC ballpoint pen.

After forty minutes of preaching I thought things were coming to an end, but the pastor spontaneously decided to add two extra points to his sermon. At minute sixty seven, he concluded with, “Let’s pray.”


The moment the pastor said, “Amen,” he ripped off his shirt, threw it into the congregation, and sprinted around the auditorium. He concluded his sprint by sliding on his knees across the stage and pumping his fists. The worship team dog piled on top of him.

That signaled the end of church, and I quickly made my out of the auditorium and into the parking lot.

I didn’t want to be there when the congregation started setting chairs on fire.

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I'm a husband, dad, writer. I created The Blazing Center and have written some books which people seem to like. You can follow me on Instagram and Facebook . If you benefit from the site, would you consider being a supporter?