the clear air

It was some years ago. There I was walking on the second floor hallway of the admin. building, weighed down with a stack of Lemonade Day brochures. I was handling them out to whomever I saw and knew. He dashed from around the corner. I knew him from many years back. We used to work together. I said, “Hey, take these to your church.” I gave him two hands full. I could tell he was reluctant but took them anyway and walked on without missing a beat.

Later that day, I went back to second floor to discuss a project with an artist. He hears me talking and walks out from his office, head in the air and all persnickety like. He tells the artist, his employee, “she thinks I go to church.” I answered, “You don’t?” He replies, “Not since the Lord turned his back on my mom and me. When my mother divorced my father she was excommunicated from the church.” That statement was just a little too deep for me to even begin to address. So, I just decided to change the subject and share some news I’d just heard. I held both of my hands up in the air and exclaimed with much enthusiasm, “Good News!” He actually flinched as if I’d slapped him or something. He looked like he was in shock and I watched as the blood drain from his face. He became the palest shade of pale. I said, “What?” He said, “That was the name of my church: The Good News Lutheran Church.”