This place is flushed with a friendly light
on Sunday evenings when the days grow short,
but not on this Lord’s Day morning. On this
day of the Lord, the blades of light shine too
sharply. And it shines too brightly off the clean
walls that dress the church in only white.
You are too visible. I am too visible. And
what is Judy looking at? Look away. Seriously?
Now the books are opened, and the song is
“Holy, Holy, Holy.” I am not the only uncomfortable
one. Em Van Ess breathes into a hand cupped over
her nose — a chance during the holies to confirm,
though she brushed your teeth, “Woah it’s me.”
I’m sure somebody is uncomfortable with how much
skin Charlotte is showing. Chris is worrying about the
same problem with the top of his head from the
balcony. And what are you looking at, Judy?
Drew Dewitt is probably looking back as if to say,
“Somebody ought to smack those gum-chewers.”
But I don’t have a clue why you keep craning your
neck, Judy. Is this why people are scared of church?
If Jesus is judge, then maybe that’s how they’re
Christlike. Each knows no judgment another makes
will be something we ourselves didn’t know
already. And when the time comes, we won’t be
afraid of every secret being found out. So why,
until then, do our looks do this to each other?
This time she really cranks herself around.
With jingling bracelets and clinking rings,
she grabs the back of the pew to twist
herself far enough to get a decent view of
the clock. What’s making Judy so uncomfortable
that she can’t wait to get out of here?
Photo by Mitchell Leach on Unsplash
