Not Going to Church

The walk home yesterday was weird, to say the least. I unintentionally got caught in the massive rush to get to church—only it wasn’t my church. I was walking past one of the largest congregations in town, like I do every day. But I rarely pass by it at 5:40ish on a Wednesday.

I closed up the library at 5:30 yesterday (which I hardly ever do) and began my walk home. I knew I might encounter a few stragglers who were running late for what I thought was the 5:30 service at this local congregation. But there were more than a few stragglers…there must’ve been a hundred, at least. College students, non-college students, young, old…streaming in. I did my best to steer clear of the largest concentration of people. When I got to the street that runs alongside the church, I found myself waiting to cross with the wife of our university chancellor. I said hello. We crossed. She walked over to the church entrance, and I did not. It felt strange. I’m used to going against the flow of the world, but not against the flow of churchgoers. I felt like explaining to everyone I passed, “Yunno, I actually worship somewhere else, and we meet at 7:00. No offense.” Just me being hypersensitive to my surroundings.

I actually stopped one of the last “stragglers” I ran into and asked, “The church service over there starts at 5:30, doesn’t it?” He said, “No. 5:45.” “Oh,” I said. “That explains a lot.” And then he invited me to come. I politely declined and continued home.

P.S. I promise I don’t have it in for Burger King…I actually worked at a BK in college. But for the third consecutive day I picked up BK-related trash. And each time the find’s been more substantial. This morning it was a whole bag of remains—still had the receipt taped to it (1 Dbl Cheeseburger & 1 Large Fries, purchased the day before at 11:15 PM). The bag was in the middle of the street, just around the corner from the house. I couldn’t help put pick it up.