No Holy Welcome

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I approached as the archbishop preached and it seemed I had disturbed the summoning of God. Sitting there in their riveting attire, all were fixated upon His grace, not the grace of God, but the man...yes, the man. They turned sharply together, and I almost felt that my shadow resembled that of satan. Their gazes sure made me feel like it, fierce, disgusted and shocked. Not one smile nor holy welcome, just attitudes of " well here's an intrusion." The person I sought was immersed in the white congregation and I thought at least she would offer some of the grace from His grace.

Instead, her demeanor spoke otherwise and without saying a word, she spoke volumes and it told me that I had interrupted her downpouring of reverence. A place where the presence of God is supposed to be felt from miles away reeked of haughty disdain, superiority complexes and materialistic pride. I was left aghast, for not too long ago I was contemplating my return to this place after being forced out by the pandemic a few years ago.

There was no embodiment of Christ that night, even though the place should have been seemingly filled with the confirmation of the Holy Spirit. They saw me and ignored God's teaching, scrutinizing me from my crown to my feet and I am pretty certain that Jesus wept.

Oh well, what can I say? The majority of the people who sit in the church have no business being in the church. Let the church say "Amen."

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