Dixie cup Church

I'm from the almost-south, a city perched between the midwest and the southern states, with some of the charm of each. It's a place that's both tenaciously liberal (on my side of the tracks) and, in some cases, staunchly conservative. Religion comes in all shapes and sizes in my home city, but I will say that they haven't avoided the mega-church phenomenon by any means. There's a church out in the suburbs (out with the strip malls and the giant parking lots and the mega-Wal-marts), a massive octagon of black glass with a giant cross on top. Upon arriving in the U.S. for the first time to visit, my husband, a quiet adventurer with a curiosity for quirky nooks and crannies that are a bit off the beaten tourist path, demanded we go. He had to see it. It was a spectacle. I shook my head slowly -- after all, neither of us is particularly religious, and I have some bad memories of mega-church-going folk. But I was slowly convinced. Wouldn't it be interesting , after all, to see a church with two balconies and an escalator?

We sat as far up as we could, and watched the show. They had the giant, see-through pool, where they must baptize at least one person a week (they did two while we were there...a grown man who smiled goofily the whole time, and a child), they had the pop band on stage, singing about Jesus. But the thing I thought was the most incredible was the Eucharist. Grape juice passed out in little, plastic cups to everyone in the audience. Now that's the way to take in the body and blood of Jesus. In disposable cups that will be of use for 5 seconds before going to litter a landfill. Thank you, Dixie cup corporation, for your contribution to Eucharists in mega-churches everywhere. Your role is positively vital. How else, in God's name, would they get all that blood to all those people??