I tossed my phone onto the sofa and settled back down in the sunshine framed on the floor. It felt warm and intimate. Paging through my newspaper, I found religion—the religious and local social news section.

The first two pages were a mix of articles on local church events and a lassoing feature on the popular new phenomenon of cowboy churches. I turned the page.

BAM! An explosion of local church ads hit me in the face like an airbag. All in tidy square boxes, the ads created grid designs covering several pages. I was reminded of the car ads I had just been perusing.

I remembered from Latin class that the word “religion” means “to bind together.” The religion section of the newspaper successfully exemplified this. There was an obvious chafing in these tightly woven ads of faiths. The optical effect was blurring. There was no room to breathe. I could hear the disquieting sounds of historically and socially fragmented religions—mostly Christian—lobbying and bustling against each other. It was like looking at a colossal box of nestled square chocolates … Which one to choose? They all looked alike. The ads seemed to physically push the boundaries of the pages. I could feel the pressure—I was sitting in the margins.

I reminded myself that these pages were only from one newspaper of one city. I’d once Googled religion and noted there were two hundred and ninety-two million sites. I had surfed for a few minutes more but lost interest after visiting the first twelve. Eleven were about definitions—descriptions of religions, cults, sects, denominations, the occult, and freemasonry. One was about consulting services for learning religious tolerance. You could learn about religion and then how to tolerate it.

My eyes bounced from one small box of the ad pages to another. They were indeed want ads. I felt wanted.

I scanned the pages. Most used the same generic layout—as if the churches had the same thinking in mind. There was conformity and monotony. Within the tidy boxes was the name of the church or denomination affiliation, a church logo in one corner—lots of doves and flames—the imaginative world of symbolism. Some ads contained signature slogans. Addresses and scheduled times of services were included.

Overwhelmingly welcoming pages, many ads proclaimed either “Everyone Welcome” or “A Welcoming Congregation” or “Visitors Welcome.”

What does “welcome” mean? Did “welcome” imply a freedom to express your own opinion?  Religion is not about freedom—this is the concern of spirituality.

I contemplated the smorgasbord of Christianity before me. It didn’t make any sense. Smorgasbords don’t. They are a hodge-podge.

Christianity is a historical religion of traditions and conditions.  A primary tradition is squabbling over conditions (usually about who is in charge, means of salvation, rituals and doctrines), leading to dissent, leading to creation of new Christian divisions.  Like the boxed ads promoting them, this “tradition” was setting up boundaries—defined edges.  All religions formulate basic statements of faith.  This is not just to remind believers what they are supposed to believe, but to tell believers from nonbelievers, and true believers from false ones.  

Let’s look the truth in the face here. So many religious venues … all of them a blend of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. But they are all on the same “page.” They all have the same agenda: Christianity was a missionary religion.  Each “box” in my face wanted to talk about what they have to offer.  But do the churches these ads were promoting encourage the discovery of flexibility? Do they support pushing personal boundaries with the guidance of reason? Do they appreciate that humans have yearnings, but that belonging to an organization was not necessary for faith?

 I had read that thirty Christian denominations had chaplains in Operation Desert Storm. Does comfort need to be customized?

I visually and mentally lumbered through the ads for Episcopal Churches, traditional Episcopal Churches, and Evangelical Episcopal Churches; Presbyterian Churches in America, Presbyterian Churches USA, and Reformed Presbyterian Churches; a Methodist Church With Vision and a Methodist Church with Open Minds; Primitive Baptist Church Dedicated to Biblical Teaching, and a Free Will Baptist Church Teaching the Bible with Dedication. Ads for The Brethren, Church of the Brethren, and Brethren in Christ. Ads for the Church of Christ, the Church of God, The Churches of God, and the Church of God in Christ. One ad asked, “Are You Looking for a Real Alternative?” by the Anglican Orthodox Church—currently assembling at the United Methodist Church across the street from the Assembly of God Church. And then, an ad for Holy Name Catholic Church, stating the incontrovertible words “Dedicated to the Magisterium of the Roman Catholic Church.”

I recognized quite a few of the churches listed from my drives through the area. Several edifices were lofty and emotionally remote. Some were captivating eye candy. Others looked like military installations.  I could hear my dad’s words—as relevant for selecting a car as they were for choosing a church—“Well, whatever works for you.”