Why going to church and flying are the same thing.

I initially wrote this post while sitting in an aisle seat. After reading you will understand why an aisle seat might provoke such a profound metaphor that isn't serious at all but could be serious if you're like my Mom who takes Jesus v seriously.


Flying is a lot like going to church. In its most basic form, you'll sit, stand, sit again, stand again and then wait in line for someone to bless you or scan your ticket. There are certain things you expect out of church and flying, like a sermon or a safety video. You know that the body and blood of Jesus Christ will be served at church and on the plane in the form of peanuts pretzels or cookies with alcohol for purchase. Ushers will collect your tithes and flight attendants will accept credit card only.

Same, same and same. 

The flight is a lot like the sermon because sermons teach us something, which most travel days do too. Some examples might be: patience when the flight is delayed, gratitude when there is an open seat next to you, controlling rage when you're going to miss your flight or selflessness when Delta gives you five thousands dollars to take the next flight. Most importantly though, turbulent times force you to put all of your trust in the pilot, also read: amongst hard times though shall put trust in the Lord, our savior. Which is what every sermon is about anyways.

And of course, like any church, we are all sinners without our seat belts fastened at all times incase we experience any unexpected rough air. 

See? We're just getting started. 



The comparison of church and flying really begins when you buy your ticket, but more specifically, when you make your seat selection. 

The window seat is heaven. Comfortable and optimal for sleeping without having to bring a neck pillow. Close to the window, close to the clouds thus closer to heaven than any other seat. The only downside is going to the bathroom, but even then you get a pass because it's assumed you would only ask the aisle to get up if you REALLY had to go. 

The middle seat is purgatory. You don’t get the benefits of either seat, but you don’t get the downfalls either. You're stuck in the middle—with no elbow room, no air vent and no choice in the matter.

The aisle seat is absolute hell, usually disguised as the "good option for leg room" which is so typical of the devil to deceive us like that. The aisle's only saving grace is that you can go to the bathroom without bothering anyone. That being said, others will bother you to go to the bathroom. But that is not the worst part; the worst part is being physically abused over and over by butts, carts, feet, hands, suitcases, backpacks and farts. To which at some point you become entitled to the aisle and refuse to move your ligaments in and out for the convenience of others because you're sure they're doing it on purpose now. Which is something someone in hell would do. 


As we land, it can be assumed that everyone is collectively praying, at the very least hoping, that the landing goes smoothly. Once it does, and our final prayers have been said, we are ready to leave. Only, there are no mini-donuts or coffee waiting for you on fold-out tables. No, only a difficult conversation with your Uber driver and a cluttered baggage claim await you. 

But what we can count on is a flight attendant taking the role of a priest saying goodbye to each and every one of you. 

Thank you for flying Delta, we hope to see you again soon.