We went to church today. We haven’t been in a while (a really long while) and I always feel so good after I go. I guess it’s just comforting for me – the songs, the service, the prayer. Everything about the service is familiar. It’s like having an old friend wrap her arms around me, as if to say, “Hi. How are you? I love you. I’ve missed you. Welcome back.”
I love our church. It’s beautiful, and historic.
I find the homilys much more interesting as an adult. I suppose it’s because I actually reflect on them through the week. Past that, too. A powerful message sticks with you for a good long while.
Now I’m not the most religious person, quite frankly, and I’m surprised that I’m even writing about church. I do have a strong faith in God and do believe that it gets me through many of the trials and tribulations of life.
Today the Monsignor at our church delivered a powerful sermon. The message was that it’s harder to be a good Christian and easier to look the other way. To drive that point home, he asked several church members to write a letter to a woman in jail. We were leaving church when he asked, and how do you say no to that? But, how do you write a letter to someone you don’t know? It’s like having a pen pal, but not. And unlike having a childhood pen pal, as an adult you know what you can and can’t say. The few things I know about this woman is that she’s well educated and in jail. She’s also apparently, and understandably, feeling down. I have to wonder why she’s there, but certainly won’t ask. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in jail. I never want to know.
I suppose I’ll get out my pen and paper later and send her a line. It seems like the least I can do and such a simple gesture will make someone’s day better.
Hopefully much better.