Mary E. Latela @LatelaMary January 3, 2016
One weekend, in midtown USA (we’re tired of hearing about small-town USA or the “big city”), all the houses of worship were closed – locked from the inside.
Sal and Betty, driving to their family-size denominational church, went early to set up for coffee, but Sal’s key didn’t work. They’d left home the cellphones, so waiting for the pastor was the only option. Tick Tock. Anna and Greta, who walked to St. Magdalena’s Catholic Church, stood in the early dawn before the great doors of their church. They had no key, so they waited. Tick Tock.
This repeated across town. Someone – drawing on vast experience as a key loser – thought about a locksmith. Old Ben, wearing a tee shirt emblazoned “All doors open” smiled, opened his shop door, and was faced with an angry mob. “Open our church!” For goodness’ sake, open up! “No keys?” Can’t find the keys?” Hmmm.
Three or four, then ten or fifteen kids, dressed in Sunday best, noticed the shiny gold flashing from a pile of stuff things in the middle of the driveway. Before parents could stop them, they dove into the muck and started pulling out keys, all sizes and shapes. But not one key had any sign of id, so who knew where they would go?
Then a little girl took out her Suzuki fiddle and started playing, “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” to the chagrin of most of the uppity set. Many turned aside, others covered laughter. Others wondered who taught this mediocre girl to play … Miss Piggy?
Where were the pastors? Who would bring the messy gathering to order? A D_________ pizza truck pulled up, and they were giving away pizza! People who would NEVER call pizza a dinner food rationalized that the pizza would go bad, so they ate. There were some spillage, but Jack the mechanic brought over those rough paper towels, which were good enough.
From somewhere a loud speaker crackled. A loud voice cried out, “Go in peace, and serve the Lord!” They all left. What happens next?