The worship culture at The Well (and I’m sure many, many similar non-denominational churches) is so different from Mormon church.
Zero to sixty.
Snoozin’ to totally engaged.
But you know the biggest difference I realized?
Vulnerability.
LDS culture is very much about image. Maybe this started with putting on your Sunday best. Next thing you know, you’ve got a fashion show with skyscraper stilettos—
(The daughters of Zion make a tinkling with their feet)
—and who has the best hair and the cutest nails. Whose kids are groomed perfectly, wearing matching sweater vests, and sitting so reverently.
Then it’s who smiles the best and never mentions any problems.
I’m always here to model what a perfect life looks like. Never fear; should you ever doubt, look to me! Try to be like me!
Occasionally a tear is shed. Followed by “I told myself I wouldn’t cry.” Whenever people cry, the congregation feels “the spirit.” Because, you know, emotion.
It’s that thing they’re so unfamiliar with.
Confession: This was never me.
My kids hardly ever bathe. My kids have knotty hair. My kids wiggle and argue. My kids refuse to attend their own classes.
I don’t wear makeup.
I spend about 10 seconds on my hair.
I only smile when it’s genuine.
If you ask me how I’m doing, I’m gonna tell you.
Cuz I’m honest like that.
For many years people have told me “I just love your posts! You’re so real!” And I didn’t really get what they meant. I’m real because I told you about my day?
But now I get it.
Why aren’t more people real?
Sometimes I wonder why people go to Mormon church. Only a handful of people sing the songs. Mumble mumble. Like, do you believe this or not? Is this just a charade to everyone so you don’t let your parents down?
So then I go to The Well, and people are standing up holding their hands in the air. Some people say “Amen” when they’re feeling it, at any given point!
Even at 8:30 in the morning, they’re awake and alert.
And they want to be there.
My first several weeks attending, I would cry every time. And I didn’t feel self-conscious at all. It just felt safe and accepted. Like we are all here to experience God. We get it.
I felt like I was worshipping God for the first time in my life.
Because there were no walls.
My real self was there, and I felt the same from those around me.
And did I mention the music just makes me cry??
As far as clothing, well, the teenage girl in front of me last week was literally in her pajamas. But participating!
The whole “come as you are” thing…. It’s about more than just your clothing.
Just such an entirely different culture.
Come down, Spirit make me move. You make my heart pound when you fill the room. You’re here and I know you are moving. I’m here and I know you will fill me.
All I Possess 