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A good friend of mine recently told me about an incident that happened to him that explains why a person can worship, and yet still not know God. It all began before the plane took off. Roger Williams III was sitting in the window seat and was looking forward to thumbing through a magazine on a short flight from Sacramento to attend a National Youth Ministry Conference in San Diego, California. He’d fastened his seat belt, made sure his chair was in the full upright position, his tray table was locked and that his luggage was properly stowed when two well-dressed Ally McBeal look-a-likes sat down next to him.


Their conversation competed for attention with his magazine. They talked about the club scene-what they enjoyed drinking, who they were "dating," their intimate relationships with men, both single and married. Then it turned into a gripe session.


"Why do guys have such a hard time committing?" One asked. "And why don’t they ever leave their wives like they promise to?" Another complained.


They talked about work for a while, and about the time Williams was tuning out, one of them said, "But you know, if it wasn’t for church, my life would really be hell." By now, Williams was only pretending to read his magazine, they had his full attention. "Wow, you go to church too. I know exactly how you feel. If it wasn’t for church, I don’t know where I’d be." "Yeah, I know what you mean," the other lady said, "if I miss more than two weeks of church everything in my life goes nuts."


The plane started its descent into San Diego and everything got quiet, and Williams sat still--stunned by what he’d just heard. He concluded that worship, to these ladies, was just a "religious fix."


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