(dis?)Honorable Discharge

It seems a little incongruous to celebrate the fact that I don’t have to go to church tomorrow because I went tonight. Like it’s bad karma for feeling as though I’ve discharged my duty to ‘the Baby Cheeses’ rather than celebrated the ‘communion of the saints’.
I don’t actually think that ‘Cheeses’ is keeping score. My boss may be. But Cheeses isn’t.
Funnily enough, I’m glad I went. Quite apart from the obvious free Sunday benefit, I was truly surprised that the smaller crowd, ‘the B-Team’ leading the ‘cheering’, and the relaxed Saturday afternoon vibe actually made for a great experience, one I want to repeat rather than one to avoid (as has been the case in the usual flurries of Sunday morning).
I guess one of the perils of being involved in one of those mega-churches is the most common criticisms levelled at outfits like mine is the absence of the personal touch.
I can’t criticise it for that because I’m not one to hunger for long leisurely chats after the meeting. I’m a get in and get out congregant. I’m more about hang time with ‘Cheeses’ than with the saints. That may make me anti-social but I’m past worrying about what everyone else thinks, or even if they notice my presence or absence. But the hang time with ‘Cheeses’ feels to me sometimes like it’s obscured in the crowd and tonight it didn’t feel like that.
I can’t decide if it’s because I’m getting old or because genuine Cheeses moments are easier to come by in the quiet. And while the proceedings are far from quiet it seems there’s more room for it on Saturday.
I wonder whether if I make Saturday night my more regular appearance whether Cheeses will mind if I take money out of the bucket rather than put it in.
Just to make up for the babysitting I’ll be missing…