Who Let the Songs Out?
What if worshippers didn’t have the restraints of religion?
What if worshippers didn’t have the restraints of religion?
I should be used to this. We all should be. But I’m too weary and wary to take it anymore: the concept that we dress up for God (that we can impress him).
Like Farrell’s Harold Crick, I have lived for the past few months with the premonition that my life is at least somewhat scripted, that I have a choice to embrace destiny or pretend with a sense of control. I have talked to invisible ears, asked questions of ‘the omniscient third person.
That pulpit, then, becomes the wall between a certain spiritual have and the have nots. I remember the spiritual place I felt attained by the times my dad lent me his pulpit, a sense of worthiness either doled or earned—sadly the antithesis of what that place should generate.