The Eleventh Commandment

In every family, there seems to be one person that receives notice of the Eleventh Commandment:

Thou shalt not be late to church.

Unfortunately for the recipient, there is usually only one person who is aware of this commandment in each family --- making him or her a fiery ball of nerves on Sunday morning.   You can usually spot this person by The Vein that is pulsing from the forehead or neck.  Other tell-tale signs include The Scowl, The Clenched Jaw, The Glare, The Balled Fist, and The Snorting Nostril. 

In my family, this person is me. 

My anxiety starts as soon as I wake up on Sunday.  I start plotting about how we can all get out the door on time.  To get a husband, a two year old, and an infant ready and keep them that way at the same time requires some strategy.  A strategy I have not mastered.  We've tried 9:30, 10:00, 11:00, and 11:15 am services.  We've tried dressy church and blue jean church.  No matter which one we choose, we are late.  Half the time, we are unshowered. We always miss the music, and sometimes we miss half the sermon too.

I will admit that I am part of the problem.  And that only makes me angrier. 

I've tried to pretend to be laid back about it, but that's just not me.  It comes off a bit like using surfer slang in a business suit.  I'm not fooling anyone. 

This is a problem that requires some serious therapy.

And so, I reread the 10 commandments, and remind myself that there are, in fact, only 10.  These 10 include the following:

* You shall have no other gods before me.
* You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below.
* You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name.
* Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.

I want to rationalize that the Eleventh Commandment is consistent with these, but I don't think that is true.  It would be one thing if I were truly pursuing God's honor by getting to church on time.  But, really, I'm not.  I'm actually more interested in my honor.  It's EMBARRASSING to be the last family at church. 

Gulp.

So, my children who are watching me (and who are likely victimized by my Sunday antics), aren't really learning anything about God's will.  What they are really learning is that mom deifies her image over all, that she invokes the Bible to justify her need to be on time to church, and that she defiles the holiness and peace of the Sabbath to follow societal customs.

It sounds like I'm being harsh on myself, but I'm really not.  It's no picnic to get ready for church while harassed by an 11th Commandment follower.  It's certainly no way to prepare the heart for worship.

This, of course, brings me back to where I began:  The Eleventh Commandment. 

If you happen to adhere to it, I have a newsflash for you:  It's a fiction.  It's a distractor.  And it's likely to make you violate the first ten.

Keep going to church and aiming to be on time, but remember:  the heart of the matter is always the heart.  And a pure, patient, God-seeking heart will teach your children more than announcement sessions and opening songs at church ever will.