Spirit Goes to Church Mart
We didn’t realize until we realized.
Spirit Goes to Church Mart
Many of us have grown up in ‘The First Church Mart of Jesus.’ We were the volunteer woman in the basement, in the nursery. We didn’t mind because it gave us an opportunity to teach the children and the youth what ‘God had in store for them.’ Little did we realize that we were making volunteers that would also serve in the basement and the nursery even when we would teach them every week that ‘God had a plan’ for their lives.
We didn’t realize until we realized.
We would wait too late to realize that the rows of patriarchy were dug for us, but we were the ones dropping the seeds into each human soul.
When I first read this chapter in manuscript form back in 2002 I was moved in my spirit in every way imaginable. I wanted to see this book on every shelf in every bookstore. I wanted this story, written in a fiction format, to find its way into the hands of young girls, women, moms, and grandmothers. I wanted a chance for us all to see what we couldn’t realize.
I had already shifted my attention to the Sacred Divine Feminine Spirit years prior to finding this work by Laurie Beth Jones. But this one, this book, not yet published would become a driving force for me to see in print.
When she shared the manuscript with agents, publishing houses and pastoral leaders they didn’t give her enough wind in her sail to set this one free to find its way into the hands of us that needed to hear it and read it the most. Even though it was her first and only fiction book, it wasn’t on brand, so it was discouraged.
It would take me nearly ten years to convince her to self-publish this one. As an author of thirteen books from four of the big five publishing houses, this was not an easy turn for her. But she did it. Sometimes I think she released it to the self publishing world because she grew tired of me asking.
The Contessa Chronicles is ten years old. In many ways she is what prompted me towards GirlChurch. Contessa’s feminine spirit graced my heart and being. I had to join Her work. The work that Jesus (Jess) left her in charge of after his ascension. Below is chapter 19 from the book.
(Excerpt from Chapter 19 of The Contessa Chronicles by Laurie Beth Jones)
I decided that the most logical way to accomplish my mission would be to go to the place that had Jess’ name in lights. I got my journal, put on a comfortable pair of pants, and headed over to “The First Church Mart of Jesus.”
I walked through the parking lot, came to the information desk, introduced myself, and asked to meet with the leader. I told them I had an important message to share with their people. I was quickly directed downstairs to “Women’s Ministries.” I made my way through the labyrinth and found a small sign over a door which read: Nursery/Sunday School/Volunteer Recruitment/Women’s Ministries. The hand-lettered sign on the door said: “Contact: Overa Xtended.” All these departments were run by one part-time worker, Overa, who told me that, unfortunately, she had no budget for hiring, but would I like to volunteer?
I agreed and was given a badge to wear. “Your job,” she carefully explained to me, “is to greet the customers with a smile and direct them to the appropriate aisle.” “Did you just say customers?” I asked. “Yes, we call them customers so we can keep in mind that they always have a choice about where and what to buy.”
Looking forward to my first day volunteering, I showed up early and was thrilled when I saw car after car heading into the huge parking lot. Tempers occasionally flared when someone tried to cut in line. I noticed a large man driving a Hummer with a bumper sticker that read “I love Jesus. Up Yours,” as he cut in front of a woman with four children in her car. Everyone seemed on a quest to get as close as possible to the door.
As I walked past the nursery, I noticed a sign that read, “Bloom where you are planted.”
I know from working in the garden, however, that plants can’t just bloom wherever they are planted. For example, an orchid planted in a desert could not bloom no matter how much it tried. Mom said each plant needs particular conditions for it to thrive. I figured I would talk to Overa after the service and suggest modifications to the quote on the door.
I tried cheering myself up with, “This is going to be great! I love calling others to come and learn.” As the crowds began to rush in, however, I found that learning was not on their minds. “Where can we find the entertainment section?” asked a woman with her frowning husband in tow, who was still clutching a golf club in his right hand. I prepared to ask her why she came to a church for entertainment, when Overa stepped up and said, “Aisle 1.” She then turned to me, handing me a chart. “I forgot to give you this when you signed up. Don’t talk please. Just direct them to the appropriate location. This crowd likes to get in and get out.”
The chart listed:
Aisle 1: Entertainment
Aisle 2: Find a Mate
Aisle 3: Get Rich
Aisle 4: Why We Are Number One.
“End Times” material was located appropriately on the last aisle.
All other requests were directed to the Gift Shop, which featured prominent selections by the preacher himself, as well as key chains, earrings, and other paraphernalia. “I’ll bet Jess would hate this,” I thought to myself as I surveyed the merchandise.
Exactly two minutes before the doors opened, the preacher, his ushers, and a host of others gathered us all together for prayer.
“Dear Lord, you know our needs are many. Our Media cost alone are huge. We ask that you lay it up on the people’s hearts to honor You, Lord, yes You, as they make their checks out to Church Mart this day.“
With that, he looked proudly upon the gleaming cars in the parking lot, and asked in a low voice “Have we gotten a count yet?“ One man stepped forward and whispered, “Five thousand four hundred and seventy one.“ “Excellent,“ the pastor smiled, and then turned toward us volunteers, and said “OK, folks, it’s Show Time!“
The newly installed three million dollar pipe organ began blasting out “I Come to the Garden Alone.“ The electronically controlled doors swung open, and the crowd began streaming in, faces intent on their goals, their “eyes on the prize.“
People grabbed their carts, and quickly headed down the aisles, installing their headphones as they went. I watched in amazement as they listened to the preacher on the giant screen while loading their carts. Instead of clapping, they just snapped their fingers, as “studies have shown it is easier and faster, and keeps one hand free for credit cards,“ whispered Overa proudly.
When I tried to stop and talk to a man as he was leaving, asking why he had made the selections he did, I was quickly cut off by my director, who is now holding a baby on each hip since they were “low on help in the nursery.“ She pulled me aside, and after looking left and right, quickly ripped off my badge with her teeth, since that was the only appendage she had. “I can see that you are not going to fit in here. Disturbing the customers with questions is not allowed! We love you, and don’t come back,” she snarled, spitting my badge onto the floor. She then spun on her heels and lunged back into the crowd, each baby leaning back at a forty five degree angle due to the velocity and ferocity with which she traveled. She shouted into her headset, “I’m on my way!“ She plowed through the crowd to the “Caribbean Cruise with Pastor“ registration table, which was being swamped with sign-ups.
Suddenly, I saw him. I called out “Soul of Mine!“ and turned to reach out to him, just as the security guards approached. I saw him smile, slap his hands on the back of several men nearby, and begin handing out business cards. I overheard the words “deal of a lifetime” before the security guards quickly, and not too gently, escorted me off the property. As I was struggling to stay upright, one of them managed to stuff a “Voter’s Guide” down my blouse. It was pre-checked, and offered a 20% off discount coupon to the gift store. One of the guards, apparently feeling badly about how I was being treated, whispered to me, I hear they need some volunteers at Six Flags over Jesus. Things might work out for you there.”
As I made my way slowly back to my apartment, I realized that this work was going to be harder, and take much longer, than even Jess had imagined.
(Excerpt from Chapter 19 of The Contessa Chronicles by Laurie Beth Jones)
You can purchase a copy of The Contessa Chronicles here. Then join me here on Substack as we experience what Spirt is fostering at Table. GirlChurch is expansion. It will not be found in the basement.
Love Only Ever Expands ~ Shelly
On Wisdom
One of the dreams Spirit has for us is to Rise … “rise 1 a: to assume an upright position especially from lying, kneeling, or sitting b: to get up from sleep or from one’s bed 2: to return from death 3: to appear above the horizon <the sun rises at six> 4: to extend above other objects <mountain peaks rose to the west> 5: to exert oneself to meet a challenge <rise to the occasion> synonyms: see spring.
GirlChurch is Rising…
GirlChurch is not a place. Not a building. Not a structure to be maintained. It’s not hierarchy nor patriarchy.
Follow the journey:
A Prompting to Leave Patriarchy Behind.
Join me here on Substack
What a fascinating concept! I stayed in a church for 20 years because I believed it was the opposite of Church Mart. We were a scrappy city church plant, a humble group of 30-somethings trying to do church differently. What I didn’t realize until I realized it, was that we inherited limiting beliefs about women. I love GirlChurch as a concept because it makes a clear statement that we are longer willingly inheriting them.