I fly on planes. A lot. This Friday I am leaving for Europe in fact.
If you fly, you know the drill.
First, the boarding pass drill. Make sure you get that thing printed or you will not get through security.
Next, the security drill. Do not kid about bombs or explosives, have a quart-sized bag for all liquids, each of which is less than 3 ounces. Have your boarding pass in hand and show your ID. Take off nearly all your clothes. If you have lost weight like I have lately, hold on to your britches after taking of your belt or be arrested for streaking. Put your shoes in a bin. Take off that coat. Take your computer out of the bag. Make sure your pockets are empty. Walk through the metal detector backwards while humming the theme song from Glee. Okay I made that last part up.
If you set off the metal detector like I do without fail (I have a piece of titanium in my leg), there is yet another drill. Sit down, leg up, leg down, other leg up, other leg down, stand up, arms out, palms up, don’t talk, just wait while they pass that infernal wand around you like a circus magician looking for a long scarf. Then stand there while people passing by stare at you as the security official puts his hands all over you. Talk about invading personal space. Creeper.
Then you get dressed while moving your bags out of the way of others while not falling over or dropping your pants. I am good at this (not dropping my pants, especially).
Finally, off to the gate you go. If you are in Atlanta you pray that by the time you finally get to your gate Delta has not changed it from B to D. Then there is the boarding drill. I like to fly Delta (even though it often means Doesn’t Ever Leave The Airport) because I am an elite flyer (I just wanted to say I was elite at something) and get to board in Zone 1. Recently I flew another carrier and was in zone 5. You do not want to be zone 5, the abyss of boarding. If you fly zone 5 and have normal sized bags you will still have to check one because of the passengers who do NOT know the drill and who have bags the size of a minicooper they bring on the plane ahead of you. Lame,
Finally, you take your seat. Typically that would be next to someone much larger than you, condensing your already small space. Thus (because I know the drill) I get aisle seats always.
And then there is the final drill. You know, the flight attendant going over those safety procedures:
“If you haven’t already done so, please stow your carry-on luggage underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt. And also make sure your seat back and folding trays are in their full upright position.
If you are seated next to an emergency exit, please read carefully the special instructions card located by your seat. If you do not wish to perform the functions described in the event of an emergency, please ask a flight attendant to reseat you.
At this time, we request that all mobile phones, pagers, radios and remote controlled toys be turned off for the full duration of the flight, as these items might interfere with the navigational and communication equipment on this aircraft. We request that all other electronic devices be turned off until we fly above 10,000 feet. We will notify you when it is safe to use such devices.
We remind you that this is a non-smoking flight. Smoking is prohibited on the entire aircraft, including the lavatories. Tampering with, disabling or destroying the lavatory smoke detectors is prohibited by law. If you tamper with the smoke detector, we will kill you (okay I added that to see if you were reading).
If you have any questions about our flight today, please don’t hesitate to ask one of our flight attendants. Thank you.”
Okay. There is a lot more. But I am falling asleep typing this. Why? Because I know the drill.
I am not sure which is worse, the fact that I have heard the instructions so many times I zone out, or the fact that when an attendant actually says them, they speak so fast a new flier would never comprehend them.
Does anyone actually listen to those anymore? The other day I was on a plane and the attendant was giving the instructions live (that is rare in a day of video or recorded voices). Two men were talking behind me, but not too loudly. She stopped. She walked back to them. She told them to be quiet. Apparently they did not know the drill. And apparently she was having a really bad day.
Knowing the drill can help you miss things you should get. I actually do know how to save the day when I sit in an exit row. I can actually grip the seat cushion below me as a flotation device, although that seems a little unnecessary flying from Raleigh to Dallas unless we land just right in the Mississippi River. But I do know the drill.
Here is the problem. While knowing some basic information is helpful and can in fact save lives, the redundancy of the information and the predictable nature of things makes one numb to the very details we should know.
Welcome to life in the predictable church. You know the drill. Get up Sunday morning and put on those clothes. Get that Bible. Be sweet. Okay let’s be honest: the most likely time for a family to get into a tizzy is Sunday morning, true?
You show up at the church building, five minutes late of course, because you know the drill, and nothing starts on time. Sunday school is rolling soon and you know the drill. Don’t get too carried away. Don’t challenge the teacher. Just listen passively and answer questions with the safest, path of least resistance answers. In other words, do not take this too seriously. Head to the service. Sing loudly. Stand up, sit down, shake hands, laugh appropriately, pay attention, nod occasionally, shake the pastor’s hand, offer the obligatory “good sermon preacher,” beat the Methodists to lunch.
Oh, and do not forget the last part of the drill: Sunday nap. Or the NFL.
Okay, maybe it is not that bad. And certainly the Bible teaches that things should be done orderly. But as someone who spends a lot of time with young people, and some time with the unchurched, the very predictability of what we do sometimes causes us to miss a mysterious God. Read the book of Acts: there was consistency in their message and in their character, but one could hardly call life in the early church predictable.
This week, take a little time and think about the God who may not follow our drill. Step out of the routine, the ability to put so much of Western Christianity on autopilot, and think about the wonder of God.
Every now and then I sit by a passenger on a flight who has never flown. Watching them look out the window, read the airline magazine, even work on the crossword puzzle, reminds me of the joy I had when I first flew. I want to know the drill, but more than that, I want to experience the wonder. As you live your life, try not to lose that wonder of salvation, the joy of the gospel. Christianity is wonderful; it need not be so predictable.
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