Or: How I Learned That Brother Bob's Potluck Strategy Explains Everything Wrong With Church Timing

Y'all, we need to have a serious talk about the masterminds running our Sunday morning experience, because I'm pretty sure they're either evil geniuses or they've never actually attended their own church service.

Let me paint you a picture that'll have you nodding so hard you'll need a chiropractor.

The Scene: 10:45 AM at Fellowship Baptist

You walk into the lobby and there it is: The Temptation Station. A beautiful spread of coffee that could wake the dead and donuts so fresh they're practically still warm. The church volunteers are smiling like they're handing out free tickets to heaven, and your stomach is growling because you skipped breakfast to make it on time (again).

So you do what any rational human does: you grab that coffee like it's liquid salvation and snag a glazed donut that's calling your name louder than the Holy Spirit.

11:00 AM sharp: "Please take your seats, service is beginning!"

And that's when you realize you've been SET UP.

Enter Brother Bob: The Potluck Line-Cutting Legend

Now, before I get to the real conspiracy, let me tell you about Brother Bob. This man has turned church potlucks into an Olympic sport. While the rest of us are still saying "Amen" to the closing prayer, Bob is somehow already third in the buffet line, plate in hand, eyeing the fried chicken like a hawk circling roadkill.

The man has the supernatural ability to be simultaneously the most spiritual person during service (shouting "Preach it!" and waving his handkerchief) AND the most ruthless strategist when food appears. He's mastered the art of the holy sprint from pew to buffet table.

But here's the thing—Brother Bob gets it. He understands timing and energy management in a way that whoever planned our Sunday morning schedule clearly does not.

The Caffeine Conspiracy Unfolds

So there you are, 11:05 AM, sitting in your pew with a belly full of sugar and enough caffeine to power a small aircraft. The worship team launches into "How Great Thou Art," and you're feeling good. The coffee's kicking in, the donut was heavenly, and you're ready to meet Jesus.

11:25 AM: Worship ends. You're still buzzing. Perfect timing for an interactive message, right?

WRONG.

Pastor Jim steps up and says those dreaded words: "Please turn in your Bibles to Leviticus chapter 14..."

And then he sits. Down. To teach. For. An. Hour.

The Sugar Crash Apocalypse

Here's what happens next, and every single one of you has lived this nightmare:

11:35 AM: You're bouncing slightly in your seat. The caffeine has you alert and engaged. You're taking notes like you're going to be tested later.

11:50 AM: You start feeling that familiar sugar dip. Your eyelids get a little heavy, but you're fighting the good fight.

12:05 PM: The crash hits like a freight train. You're doing that church head-bob dance where you jerk awake every thirty seconds, hoping nobody noticed you just drooled on your Bible.

12:20 PM: You're either completely catatonic or you've entered what I call "Holy Hyperactivity Mode"—where you can't stop fidgeting and you're mentally redecorating the sanctuary just to stay awake.

The Brother Bob Solution

Now, Brother Bob figured out something the church planners missed: Energy management is spiritual strategy.

That man knows that when food hits your system, you need to MOVE. At potlucks, he's not just cutting in line—he's demonstrating proper post-meal activity. He's socializing, he's walking around, he's staying engaged. He's working off that energy while his body processes what he just consumed.

Meanwhile, we're expected to sit like statues for an hour after consuming enough sugar to fuel a kindergarten class and enough caffeine to keep a truck driver alert for three states.

The Joy Rebellion Blueprint

Here's my revolutionary idea, church planners: Let's get people moving!

Picture this perfect Sunday morning:

• 11:00-11:30: Coffee, donuts, and HIGH-ENERGY worship. Let people bounce to "Shout to the Lord" while their caffeine kicks in!

• 11:30-11:45: Short, punchy message while everyone's alert and caffeinated

• 11:45-12:00: More worship! Get them moving again! Work off that sugar!

• 12:00-12:30: The deep teaching when people have burned through the initial sugar rush and can actually focus

• 12:30: Altar call when hearts and minds are clear

The Truth Bomb

Friends, we've been doing this backwards! We're treating Sunday morning like a library when we should be treating it like the celebration it is! God gave us bodies that need to move, especially after we've pumped them full of His caffeinated goodness.

Jesus walked everywhere. The disciples were fishermen and tax collectors—active people! You think they sat still for hour-long sermons after breakfast? They probably would've been doing jumping jacks in the synagogue.

Your Mission: Be Like Bob

Next Sunday, I dare you to channel your inner Brother Bob. Not the line-cutting part (let's keep it holy), but the energy management part. If you need to stand during service, stand. If you need to take notes to keep your hands busy, take notes. If you need to do subtle calf raises during prayer, DO IT.

Your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, and temples aren't meant to be sleepy mausoleums.

The Bottom Line: Maybe the real holy rebellion is admitting that whoever scheduled coffee and donuts before a sit-down sermon never actually tried it themselves. Sometimes honoring God means honoring the body He gave you—sugar crash and all.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go practice some sanctified stretches for this Sunday. This message was brought to you by someone who learned that faith and caffeine management go hand in hand.

What's your Sunday morning energy survival strategy? Are you Team Coffee Crash or Team Holy Hyperactivity? Let's solve this conspiracy together!