Our creative writing team has been writing again.
“I know how churches can be. I wouldn’t want to take anyone’s pew.”
I hear a lot of reasons why people don’t go to church: everything from theological differences to work schedules to football games to a desire to sleep late. What I did not expect to hear was this statement: a fear of entering a new place with new faces and sitting somewhere that someone else regularly sits. Many of us churchgoers probably have stories of being on one or both sides of the pew: as the person uncomfortably sitting where someone else is staring or the person uncomfortably staring at the person who is sitting.
I pass by them every Thursday on the way to school. Sometimes I try not to look because the site of it takes me days to get over. So much for “break my heart for what breaks Yours.” The run-down shack of a house, beat up car in the dirt drive, the worn out clothes hanging on souls with skin. It’s more than I can take.
Down the narrow path
Dark stone rising
To either side
In the world of Friends, all you need are a guitar and an idea to become a musician. You don't really need to know how to play that guitar. And the songs you write don't have to make sense. If Phoebe Buffay can land a regular gig at a New York coffeehouse, you believe that all of us can, too.
I don't like Christians...which is ironic, considering I am one. I find it far easier to like, and even love, my atheist and agnostic friends. Of course, it's easy to love my Christian friends who support me; the ones who believe it's perfectly okay that God made me gay. But the ones who spew such hatred toward me, are hard to love.
Quite often, over the course of numerous conversations unfolding inside the circled wagons of wounded American Evangelicalism, there develops this almost liturgically repetitious refrain amongst the faithful:
our best years are behind us.