Happy Easter

People ask me sometimes if I go to church.

I don't go to that church, for that building and the happenings within are breeding grounds for evil  (even Jesus smashed the money coffers of the church). Unfortunately I have witnessed too many people who are saintly for one hour a week and jerks the other 167 hours. I have called ministers in my darkest, darkest hours and been told by them to look elsewhere for help. I have had people who profess to be religious and forgiving go, with no hesitation, for the jugular. It's one thing to sit in church and preach forgiveness and kindness to all. It is completely another to do it in real life. The disconnect between the two is striking.  These people, those churches, do not represent my God.

But I still believe. In something – I'm not sure what – but something. A higher good if you will. And because of that, I go to my own church just about every day. Like today, Easter Sunday, with a skin up out of the fog, above the clouds and into the light. It's an amazing cathedral, and if there is a God, or an Allah or a higher power than us, than it is up here.

Rise.

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3 thoughts on “Happy Easter

  1. Or, as Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)said:
    Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –
    I keep it, staying at Home –
    With a Bobolink for a Chorister –
    And an Orchard, for a Dome –
    Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice –
    I, just wear my Wings –
    And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
    Our little Sexton – sings.
    God preaches, a noted Clergyman –
    And the sermon is never long,
    So instead of getting to Heaven, at last –
    I’m going, all along.
    Happy Easter and love, Mom and Dad

    Like

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