When we were growing up it was assumed that we were going to Church every single Sunday. We often hated it, but we went without fail, even on vacation. As we grew up together, we went through periods where we felt cynical about Church, and others where Church meant the world to us. When we felt cynical, we would find ways of entertaining each other that included tripping each other on the way to communion, flicking each other’s’ ears during the sermon, and competing who got to put the check in the plate.

During more sincere times, those irreverent traditions took on a different meaning. The competition to put the check in the plate turned into a silly but heartwarming tradition where we would all give each other a dollar to buy our “tickets to heaven.” The sarcasm made us laugh, and of course, none of us thought that salvation could be bought, but hidden beneath this inside joke was something special. As odd as it sounds, when I gave my siblings and parents their dollar, I was hoping for their salvation, and when I received mine from them, I felt the same desire.

I imagine the evolution of this odd tradition will not make sense to most, but it doesn’t have to because it makes all the sense in the world to us. Making each other laugh, often in the face of societal norms, was part of our family dynamic, and we needed room to laugh together in Church for it to feel like Church. I doubt that any of us were listening to the prayers or the sermon when we were attending out of a sense of obligation, but God still worked in us while we were sitting there bored and surrounded by people we love. In an odd way, being bored and with those you love, especially in Church, can catalyst for new and wonderful things. In this case, it made Church more like Church, because we added something it was missing -- hushed giggling as the choir sang their anthem.