There's a country song that begins: "Our houses are protected by the good Lord and a gun; you might meet 'em both if you come around here not welcome, son..." I can't make sense of it. If the good Lord is doing the protection thing properly, it quite obviates the need for a gun, right? Maybe the good Lord's protection is metaphorical, with the gun providing protection literally. Or maybe he means both the good Lord and gun literally. Christ o Christmas!
This is on my mind because of a religious experience I had yesterday. I made the mistake of going to church on the day the music director announced his resignation. I still haven't figured out why he resigned, but I think I may resign as well. Here's how it all went down.
It was an ordinary service in every respect; there was singing and praying and a sermon. When the pastor dismissed the congregation, the music director picked up a microphone and made his announcement. He said something about thirty years of service to the church and fifteen pages of a damning document about the pastor. There was some other cryptic rambling, then goodbye. His brother (or brother-in-law, I'm not sure) who was also on stage, had his own outburst which was equally mysterious and eerily tense.
I immediately prayed that I was not going to witness a murder or two or more; I regretted going there at all, let alone unarmed. I cannot kick myself enough for not grabbing Mrs. Peter and my sons and running out the door right away. Mercifully there was no physical violence, but the damage to my psyche may be irreparable. At least my sons' attention was directed elsewhere. Where is the love, people???
It is long past time for me to establish my own church; I'm sure I can do it better than any I've ever seen. That includes this one. Science bless you all!