Dear Lewis, I will be going to church again soon. The year, so far, has conspired against me, but I’ve been dutiful in my “Thank you, Fathers” even though I’m not Catholic. I’m happy with my “Many, many blessings” even though I’m not Irish. This week we had to say goodbye to a one of those good church people, but lucky for me the building is still there. The steeple still points upward and organ will play its haunting and evocotive melodies. I love church. I hope am not being too eager or too reluctant to admit it. What’s not to like about a quiet place with high ceilings? Oh, the people, you say. We are an irritating bunch, church goers or not. I’m guessing with all the drinking you used to do church going was not your priority. But God works in mysterious ways and various denominations. Some of my many blessings are good friends whose churches don’t look like mine or even meet on Sunday. There are no kinder words than namaste, shalome, or amen. Lewis, I am listing some poems for you to read in your infinite spare time. My AP English teacher from high school would be proud. See, my Georgia public school education has not been wasted. Do ya’ll have poetry slams in heaven? If so, I’m guessing you’re not there. Did you see the Braves this week? Maybe shouting at an umpire is poetry in heaven. Please ask God to send thy blessing upon these thy servants, especially one of the "good" ones: Dr. Gary Parker. Amen, Nicki Carrion Comfort by Gerard Manley Hopkins ...Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with (my God!) my God. Church Going by Philip Larkin ...A serious house on serious earth it is, in whose blent air all our compulsions meet, are recognized, and robed as destinies. Preface To A Twenty Volume Suicide Note by Amiri Baraka ...And then last night, I tiptoed up to my daughter's room and heard her talking to someone, and when I opened the door, there was no one there ... Only she on her knees, peeking into her own clasped hands. |
