The Holy Land Experience Part 1: Passion Smashion

Right after the Christmas holiday, K and I took a little trip to Orlando. No, we didn’t visit the Harry Potter Experience nor did we visit the temple of Mickey Mouse. Rather, we visited that little “gem” of an amusement park controlled by the Trinity Broadcasting Network, The Holy Land Experience. Oh yes – an Orlando amusement park set in the era of Jesus. When K and I originally had the idea tovisit the park, I had misgivings because why should I give financial support to something that I knew was going to be ridiculous? But my friends at seminary encouraged me to go because they mostly couldn’t believe that such an amusement park existed.

It’s taken me sometime to actually sit down and write about my experience at the “Holy Land” because I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing. It was as cheesy as I expected, historically inaccurate, and pushed every piece of TBN merchandising crap imaginable. And none of this really bothered me all that much because, well, what do you expect for a “ministry” that costs $35 bucks to enter? But there was one section of the park that did really annoy me – but I’ll get to that later.


There were quite a few of these signs around the various prayer gardens filled with ridiculous romanesque statues that were probably bought on sale from a Home and Garden center. I wonder if these signs were put in place for critics like me.

After surviving the epic weirdness that is mid-day traffic in Orlando, we arrived at the Holy Land around noon. The place was packed and we were directed into the overflow parking lots. I noticed that many of the people walking into the park were not exactly who I expected – quite a few were visitors from other countries and there were lots of minorities! I was sure that the target market was “evangelicals” but the racial and ethnic composite of park visitors was more varied than most church services I have been too. K requested that her picture be taken in front of the sign. Not pictured is the main security booth at the entrance to the parking lot that was next to a giant, and poorly done, statue of a Roman legionnaire riding a chariot.

K is excited to be at the HOLY LAND EXPERIENCE

We quickly walked into the ticket office, pasted the first of many prayer boxes that we found, paid our $35 dollars entrance fee, picked up our map and schedule of the days events, and walked into the park. Our first experience of Jesus was in cardboard cutout form.

Paper Cutout Jesus welcomes you
And yes, that is a crowd release saying that our pictures might be used by the TBN network.

We arrived just in time for 12:30 passion play. The main seating area was already filled so we hung out behind some ropes to the side. The build up to the start of the passion play involved some Roman soldiers milling about and a few “townspeople” walking around. There was also a push by folks telling us to also attend the 5:30 passion play where Jesus’ resurrection is made extra special by showing his battle with Satan using dry ice, fog machines, and fireworks. Once the play started, I couldn’t help but notice how the Roman soldiers and townspeople all shopped at the same sandal shop (and some were wearing socks!). The warmup act to the show involved signing a few really really terrible modern praise songs and a couple of group prayers. I could tell that the play was specifically targeted to the unbeliever demographic though I was curious how many unbelievers actually paid the admission fee to watch subpar church theatre. TBN must have some numbers and statistics that I am not privy too.

After the warmup, we were briefly introduced to Mary, Joseph, and the birth narrative. An angel with unbendable plastic wings told Mary to buck up because she’s gonna have a baby. We then jump 35 years to the beginning of the Passion in the garden. And then the devil showed up.

The Devil
The devil is a pacific islander it seems. Also, the devil loves serpents….and the same sandals everyone else was wearing.

Jesus prayed for quite a while, shed tears, and seemed very sad as the devil tormented him. Any “evil” thing said by a participant in the play was mouthed by Satan, implying that it was Satan who organized the entire Passion. An older woman next to me started huffing at this point and going “that’s not exactly how it happened!” (as if she had been there) but, by the end of the show, she was a believer in the TBN view of the experience. Judas eventually arrived, kissed Jesus, and Jesus is arrested while the disciples sat around like dopes. After his arrest, Pilate showed up and does everything in his power to wash not have responsibility for the execution which reminded me of early church history and the Acts of Pilate. I noticed that the park tried really hard to walk a fine line in terms of who should be blamed for the death of Jesus. The Jewish religious authorities were there but were downplayed. The political authorities were pushed to the background. The reasons for the execution were never clarified – rather, Jesus just had to be tortured, whipped, and beaten. Fake blood was everywhere. It was obvious that the actor playing Jesus had his skin permanently stained by the twice-daily “killings”. While Jesus is being tortured and crucified, quite a few of his followers and townspeople seemed to be around and sad for the torturing. In fact, there were shouts that Jesus shouldn’t be killed, that he should be let go, and his followers never seemed to desert him. Funny that.

Dead Jesus
Jesus hangs dead on the cross

Jesus finally died. Prior to this, I noticed that there was a change in the audience. The picture taking had lessened, people were paying attention, and even one hispanic gentlemen had to be approached by security because he had become heavily emotionally invested in the story. Even though the sound effects of the whipping (there was a lot of that) was several seconds off from the acting did not seem to dissuade people from the story. People were eating this stuff up and there was a sense of reverence in the air. I just kept tweeting my reactions and shooting with my camera. It wasn’t the only time in the day when I realized that this park was speaking to a market that I just wasn’t apart of.

A Roman Soldier eventually “converts”, Jesus’ body was taken down and placed in the tomb, and the resurrection aspect of the story began. The women run to the tomb and find that it has been opened by fog machines! And it was at that point that the passion play took a very very strange turn. The MC and Roman centurion came out and began to talk about Jesus, about sins, and about how we should all believe that Jesus was the Son of God. Praise songs began to be played over the sound speakers and the townsfolks began to hum along. K turned to me and said “This is the Tinkerbell summoning!” and she was completely right. We were told that if we really believed in Jesus, that he would come back. And we were then led in the “Sinner’s prayer”, told to believe in Jesus, and then OMG! Jesus came back!

Jesus returns!
He has a giant set of keys in one of his hands – giant plastic keys because I guess God can’t afford the real thing.

We did it! We brought back Jesus! High fives for everyone! And then we all sang one more praise song, a song that I did not know (but most people seemed familiar with it), and the play ended with another reminder to return at 5:30 to see the extra-special Resurrection. K and I instead decided that we were hungry and that we needed lunch. We ran to the otherside of the park and found a food stand with no line and indulged in a few first century Corn Dogs and Pepsi sodas. While we sat and went over our feelings about how ridiculous and silly the passion play was, we devised a game plan on what we wanted to see next.

Communion with Jesus!
Holy Communion with Jesus anyone?

Living Lutheran

The ELCA has just released a new web product called Living Lutheran. The tagline is “A daily blend of stories, culture, and community.” It seems to be a type of web community with a large number of contributors writing blogs, creating video content, and talking about …wait for it…. living Lutheran. I am curious to see how this plays out but, well, I just subscribed to the feed and the RSS seems disjointed and out of whack.

But as much as I find a lutheran web presence interesting, what I think was even more interesting was the image that was in my synod’s newsletter announcing Living Lutheran.


Luther prefers to type by lantern light.

Let us be honest here – if Luther used a computer, I really doubt it would be a Windows machine. He would definitely be using a Mac – probably the Macbook Air. Its light weight would make it handy while being kidnapped and sent to Wartburg Castle.

No Superbowl for me

Sadly, come February 6, I will be on a bus heading to Philadelphia rather than watching the Superbowl. It’s quite possible that this will be the first Superbowl I have ever missed watching on tv. I’m a little down about it.

I really love this article about the 1960 NFL championship (pre-Superbowl) and the fact that it’s been 50 years since the Philadelphia Eagles have won a football championship. And I love the anecdotes from the players such as These gatherings led to a bonding among players. Tom Brookshier, the star defensive back, once told Didinger, the sportswriter, “Where else would your wife wake you to get you to a bar?” But the favorite is the story at the end where a woman buys a fur coat because the player didn’t bring her to the Pro Bowl. That should be on a future episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey.

I wonder if this is taught in Liturgy 101

It seems that during Christmas service at a church in Long Island, someone involved in the communion service had hepatitis A. The gift jokes are endless. It was discovered that the person has hep A until after the Christmas service so the church is offered free vaccines yesterday and today. All the papers showed up and possible that hundreds took up the offer for the free vaccines. To be honest, I never thought about how to handle the situation when someone involved in the communion has a medical issue and how to react to it. The church seems to be doing a good job handling the situation. I remember when Swine Flu hit and all the hoopla surrounding the common cup. Now hep A might freak out a few folks even though its intinction, not sipping, that is the most unsanitary! One way around that might just be to have terrible tasting wine – it will keep dipping and sipping to the bare minimum.

Metrocard Math

During my trip, I missed two important New York things. Actually, I probably missed way more than two but, right now, I’ll narrow down NYC into only two things – these are the only TWO THINGS that were of any importance during the last three weeks. First, I missed snowmageddon. Second, I missed the metrocard fare hike.

So, today, I walked to the subway station to refill my card. Since I’m no longer in NYC full time, I only buy single rides – no unlimited rides for me (except for the occasional one-day unlimited pass when I know I’ll be making 4 or more rides in 1 day). There were four Metrocards in my wallet so I had to check each one to see if any money was left on them, and then went through the motion to refill my card. I got to the machine, noticed that there was no general $40.00 option on the screen anymore, and – after buying $40.00 worth of rides, I noticed that my bonus was $2.80 cents. A one way ride is $2.25. What the hell am I suppose to do with that extra 55 cents?

It turns out that one of the magic numbers for new metrocards is, currently, $39.95. Because of the 7% bonus, and the fact that everything has to be in 5 cent increments, spending $39.95 will give you exactly 19 rides. This doesn’t take into account the future “fee” where every new metrocard will cost you $1.00. Doesn’t $39.95 sound like a price from an infomercial? Honestly, I should be getting a free sham-wow every time I buy a metrocard now.

New Year’s Resolutions

A friend of mine with a newborn just made a deal with his kidling that for every resolution he fails to complete, he will give his son $100. My wife thinks that is a wonderful idea and thinks I should do the same thing except that she will get the $100 instead. And as one of my goals is to try and blog everyday (I like making resolutions that are impossible to keep), my wife now believes that everyday I fail to blog, I should give her $100. I don’t think I’ll take her up on that offer.

I tend not to make too many resolutions mostly because I don’t like using the New Year as a yard marker. Instead, I think Birthdays, the start of a new school year, and Christmas are better yard markers for some reason. I like thinking of my year as beginning when I was born and since the start of a school year is (to me) the official end of summer and the beginning of fall, I find myself to be very reflective at that time. Plus, I prefer not to make resolutions during the middle of a cold period where my desire to hibernate in my sweltering cave tends to push all resolutions that require me to actually go outside, to the curb. If I’m going to make changes to my life, I prefer to give myself a fighting chance to actually WIN.

But blogging more is something I would like to do. And I’m hoping to bust out my camera more and take pictures. One thing that I noticed during my trip to Florida (I’m back in the lovely it’s-forty-degrees-colder-than-Tampa NYC) was how, on New Year’s Eve, even though I felt happy, my eyes in all pictures looked tired and it just felt difficult to smile. I was exhausted, low on energy, and I had yet to have an opportunity to be by myself and recharge and it was obvious on my face. But I still kept pushing myself to do things and I enjoyed myself and I had a lovely time. I wasn’t unhappy, miserable, or doing anything I didn’t want to do. But my face and eyes were showing me just how worn out I was. And I’m sure other people could see it. And that is something I would like to figure out this year.

I’m not a completely introvert but I have come to realize that I am able to recharge myself better when I am alone. In a weird way, I can also feed off the energy of others and push through life but that’s not the best way for me to be at my best. And with my travels between Philly and NYC, my time at LTSP, and my field experience, I really never have time to sit and recharge. And this has been noticed by my peers and supervisors and it has impacted my work to some degree. So I’m hoping to figure out ways for me to recharge. This might require me to learn how to speed read so I can free up time during my studies. I might need to learn how to maximize the limited time I have on public transportation and just put my books away. And if none of this works, then I might just need to learn how to fake it and to keep my eyes looking as energized as possible. Face scrubs, eye creams, or ditching my contacts, might at least trick my face to appear more energized than it has in the past. If I am energized enough to still engage with people, to participate in the world, to actively plan, make goals, and do things, my eyes and face should reflect that. And as a pastor, my body language is going to need to make this change. I’ll draw the line, however, at drawing eyeballs on my eyelids to pretend to be awake while I’m snoozing. I’m not that good of an artist.

Little Jockey

As my time in Florida nears its end, I realize I have yet to share what could be one of my “highlights” from the trip. This story could also highlight one of the reasons why I can never leave New York.

K, my father-in-law, and I went to dinner at a Thai restaurant. As we entered the small restaurant, I noticed a woman staring at me. She was eating dinner with a man and I noticed that she had been drinking. She leaned across her table slightly, believing that I would not be able to hear that comment she was going to make to her companion. The problem with her plan was that I was sat only three tables away from her. So, as I took my seat, removed my leather bomber jacket, and adjusted my cap, I heard her say “awwww. He looks like a little jockey!” She then proceeded to stare at me for the rest of her time in the restaurant.

The incident didn’t bother me too much (I have been called many different things in my life and there’s nothing wrong with being called a jockey) but it’s just a reminder of the vast gulf between the culture of NYC and Florida. In NYC, I’m one of many fashionable guys. In Florida, they’re about five years behind the times. If I ever do leave NYC, I’m going to need to plan yearly trips back to the Big Apple just to stock up on culture, fashion, and just life in general.

Christmas Present

I can never have enough t-shirts and k’s family knows that. I’m wearing one of them right now – it has Martin Luther on it. I also have socks that say “Here I stand.” I am going to be THAT kind of pastor.

Christmas has been great this year and my stomach aches in happiness after eating my weight in meatballs and garlic bread. At this rate, I am going to need to buy a second ticket for the trip home.

All day, I’ve been pondering what my future Christmases will be like. I’ll be working, writing sermons, meeting all the C&E church members, and also keeping tabs on my extended family. Soon, opening Christmas presents until 11:30 in the morning just won’t be possible So I keep wondering not only WHAT I will be doing on a future Christmas day but also HOW I will be doing it. Last night, I attended candlelight service at a local ELCA church and I noticed myself creating a mental critique of the service while it was going on. I thought the bulletin was nice but I wondered why the music wasn’t included (the lyrics for each hymn were printed however). I pondered the low church elements of the church and wished there were more vestments. I studied the sermon, the pastor’s delivery, the pastor’s dress, and went through what his entire vibe was. The sermon, itself, was a stretch and K summed up the delivery as “swarmy.” Since this was my 3rd visit to the church, I was able to see the teenage choir “grow up” and I figured out who were the divas, who were the young teenage leaders in the church, and who really just wanted to go home and open presents. And I thought about how I wanted to present my future self, what kind of image I wanted to give off, and what my future pastor persona will be.

One of the most “shocking” things for me when I go to an ELCA church outside of New York is how white the churches are. And not only are the churches ethnically white, but they are culturally white (and sometimes completely midwestern white) as well. White might not be the right term to use but I think it gives off the correct feeling. As a hispanic, it is very easy for me to walk into an ELCA church and feel like Mama Mia and Abba are as culturally wild as the congregation gets. There is nothing wrong with a church embracing who it is, where it came from, and for a congregation to reflect who its people are, but does that mean that the church needs to limit itself to only BE that? There is a difference between trying to be culturally expansive and being culturally oppressive by doing someone else’s cultural expressions poorly. Authenticity in love, in worship, and in a willingness to not be stuck in one cultural zone is easy to see no matter how well a cultural tradition is expressed. But there wasn’t even a willingness for the congregation to point out that one of their hymns had a Swedish verse in it. It was only by opening the ELW that I realized where this hymn came from, what it meant, and what type of ethnic and cultural experience it was expressing. Instead, the bulletin only displayed the english lyrics and, although it included the ELW hymn number, there was no encouragement to actually use the ELW. To me, that felt culturally limiting and a little sad.

I wonder how much my feelings in this regard are attached to my own experience as a minority or is my desire for the ELCA churches to be more culturally expansive and to take risks tied to my just being young. Maybe a little of both. But I personally find churches that see themselves as a part of something much larger, and expresses that in their worship, to be the type of churches that I want to be a part of. Will that be a liturgical change that I will need to bring to the future churches that I am called to? Or will I only be called to churches that already have that flavor and spice to them? And, in either case, how can I get them to move forward and actually participate in the body of Christ instead of limiting themselves to seeing themselves as THE body of Christ? And if my assumptions based on the church I went to last night is completely wrong, then why don’t I see that expansive view in their very expression of worship, especially worship tied to a specific event in a culture that is not anywhere near our own?

It seems that, at the moment at least, the ghost of Christmas present is completely influencing my ghost of Christmases yet to be. It would be nice if Gonzo was there to narrate it and if Rizzo could provided some comic relief. I think I’ll munch on a few ginger bread houses and ponder these thoughts will jelly bean and marshmallow dreams.