Sunday morning

February 2, 2014

Sunday morning

We dress – we dress up – and go.  Every week we forget why.  But it’s a comfort –a quiet joy – to arrive among people we know and don’t know, that know and don’t know us.  Everyone from grayest to pinkest is freshly scrubbed and neatly pressed; they smell clean.  They smile with their teeth.

          We find a place at the back.  And we sit with them; and we stand with them, to say the Creed, to sing the songs that tell us their bits of the old, old story.  And we hear again how God chooses the lowly and lonely to save the world though it doesn’t care to be saved.

          We leave – now we’re smiling as we shake the preacher’s hand – then go to fill up and drive through the car wash.  So we come back clean.

W