Last night I attended an event by the talented Lena Dunham. If you aren’t familiar with her, she one of Hollywood’s newest stars and is the producer, writer and star behind the show Girls. Several months ago I was at my favorite bookstore Vromans when I saw a sign that Lena would be in Pasadena for her new book tour, Not That Kind Of Girl. I thought it would be interesting to hear her speak since she has successfully done things that I would like to do one day. So I bought one ticket. Much later I noticed that the event would be at the Pasadena Presbyterian Church. I found that really strange because Lena isn’t a Christian and her content is very secular.
When I walked up to the church I was greeted by a woman who handed me a bag that said “Lena ❤ Planned Parenthood”. Inside the bag was 6 condoms and a card for more information on Planned Parenthood. When I checked in they handed me a copy of her book, Not That Kind Of Girl, and my ticket to enter. The church was packed, both bottom and upstairs. I can’t recall the last time I’ve been in a packed church like that, probably when I visited T.D. Jakes in Dallas last year.
It was quite clear that the audience wasn’t a spiritual one. They were feminist, rebels, interesting women (and a few men sprinkled here and there). I found a seat towards the very back on the bottom floor and started to take it all in. I noticed the massive cross on stage and couldn’t help but to feel sad. These people weren’t here for Christ. But how could this church allow this audience to freely use what’s supposed to be a holy space? But who was I to judge, after all I was in the audience too.
A woman got on stage and sang a couple of folky songs. Then a raunchy comedian stepped on stage, under the cross, and told multiple blasphemous jokes. My heart began to ache, how could this take place in a church? Did the church need money? Were they that ignorant to who would speaking? Why did God bring me to this event? What was he showing me?
There was no reverence for God that night in that church. People mocked and spoke as if they were on the street corner. Lena was funny as always and wasn’t nearly as raunchy as her opening act, well until she had her friend place some old-school baby microphone between her legs and pretend to speak to her vagina. This too took place on the church platform. Her friend also asked everyone there to take a moment and “meditate” before they began the interview. Who was she meditating to, or even praying to?
Yet I felt God brought me there to show me something. Clarence reminded me of a passage in scripture.
Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. “It is written,” he said to them, “‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’but you are making it ‘a den of robbers.” The blind and the lame came to him at the temple, and he healed them. – Matthew 21:12-14