This morning I went to the Chu’ch right down the street.

i got there at 11 and they were pretty much full. I looked around for seats in the back, as i am wont to do and the pews were all packed but there were some folding chairs in the corner against the wall.

perfect

i took the chair in the corner. by the second hymn, an elderly gentleman who i remember seeing earlier came back in and having lost his seat feebly came over in my direction, and the young mother freed up the seat to my right by placing her son on her lap.

He had an old leather satchel with him. When he sat down he started to play with the boy on his mother’s lap. After a while he reached into his satchel and took out a colorful folder. Something that was originally used to hold specific documents which he now adopted to his own use.

he tapped me on the arm to show me something from his collection. It was a photocopy of an email printout that I actually received earlier this week, about different settings in the bible being in Iraq. he seemed to treat this document with respect, as I couldn’t really hear what he was saying. His soft yet gruff voice was lost in the loudspeaker-amplified chorus.

He showed me something else from the folder of collected docuements, and I leaned in to hear with limited success about knowledge he was so eager to pass on while he still had the time.

“Are you married,” he asked.

“Separated,” I replied.

“I know why!”

Now who is this stranger to tell me that? This is yet another encounter with a babbling stranger that is systematically driving me down the road to agoraphobia.

He asks me a bunch of questions, gives me some scriptures, gives me some on the spot counseling while telling me he doesn’t care for Condoleeza Rice’s appointment to Sec’y of State. many things I really can’t understand, but I nod when he pauses, and smile when he smiles, because I know that it probably helps him to speak to people as much as helps the people he advises.

And now it’s into Sermon time, and he’s still talking, louder than he realizes, and people are shushing him. He’s doing a better job than me following the Word, because he’s taking time to disagree with the pastor. More scripture passages are given.

All during this time, over his shoulder I’m getting amused glances from people in front and down the pew, like “yeah, he does talk a lot don’t he? well it’s your turn this Sunday”.

if you’re reclusive, sitting in the back corner is good for many things, except at for offering time, because you become the point man.

At announcement time I got up w/ the other visitors to make my presence known, but the lady resumed her announcements and started talking over me when it was my turn, presumably thinking I was a deacon, you know, w/ me being over there standing in the corner.

at the end on my way out the ladies in the back pew tugged on my arm as I walked by and pleaded w/ me to come back, as if to imply I may not from the hazing by the well meaning elder.