Once there was a man who loved his church and loved Sunday
School. He hardly ever missed, and was loath to be absent, even on account
of sickness. Then one Sunday, he thought, "I have always been
faithful to the church and to Sunday School, and it is the last day
of hunting season, so I think I will miss this one Sunday and make one
last hunting trip." So, he did.
The next Sunday was the NFL playoffs,
and he hadn't missed two Sundays in a row in ages, so, he thought, "They
won't miss me. No one even called last week to see where I was. I'll
just skip today and go next Sunday." And so, he did.
Then there was the Pro-bowl.
Then there were the NBA playoffs. And then it was spring and good fishing
weather. Then the World Series. Then hunting season again. Then....
Then.... And then....
One Saturday night, much later, as
he prepared himself for bed, the man felt a little tug at his
heart and thought to himself, "I think I will go to Sunday School
tomorrow and see some of my old friends." So, before retiring,
he phoned his old Sunday School teacher and asked if the class still
started at 10;00 A.M. When the old teacher heard the question, he laughed
wistfully and replied, "No, the men's class doesn't meet anymore.
Everyone just lost interest."
"Ah, well!" Sighed the man,
"I'll just skip Sunday School and go to church, but, not tomorrow.
I have too much to do."
Sometime later, on a Saturday night,
after having spent the entire day with an unexplained nagging at his
mind, the man thought, "I will go to church tomorrow and see how
they are doing." So, bright and early Sunday morning the man arose,
dressed, and made his way to the little white country church where he
had spent so many blissful hours in the company of his Christian friends.
As he approached, he could see that
the churchyard was crowded with cars and his heart raced with anticipation
of reunion with his many friends. But, as he turned into the drive,
he was shocked to see that, on the front of the building where had once
hung a familiar cross, now hung a flashing neon sign guaranteeing the
best pizza in town.
When he inquired about the church,
someone replied, "Oh, this hasn't been used as a church for a long
time." Puzzled and somewhat dismayed, he drove home, vowing that
next week he would drive into town and visit one of the larger churches
to which surely, some of his friends had transferred their membership.
As time passed, the man just could
not shake off the vision of the little white church turned pizza parlor.
So, one Sunday morning, he dressed and drove into town to attend services
at one of the larger churches, where he was sure he could locate a Christian
friend, or two from his old congregation.
But, as he approached what had been
one of the largest churches in town, he could see that the parking lot
was deserted. As he pulled into the parking lot, he could see that the
signboard that had once announced the names of the church staff, Sunday
School hours, and the title of next Sunday's sermon, now announced the
names and suite numbers of lawyers, accountants, consultants, and even
a fitness center.
Panic stricken, the man raced down
the street to where he knew the next large church stood. A chill ran
over him as he turned down the street, because he could see another
deserted expanse of blacktop with familiar yellow stripes.
As he approached, he knew, without
looking, that, though the names were different, the signboard out front
advertised anything but church services. He raced up one street and
down another, looking for a church in session, and finally, realizing
that his quest was in vain, he raced out onto the highway, intent on
escaping this churchless town and finding a place where they still held
services and he could go to worship.
As the miles stretched into hundreds
and the hours into days and he lost count of the cities through which
he passed and the pizza parlors, hamburger joints, office buildings,
and garages, decorated with the familiar steeples he saw, the feeling
of panic slowly gave way to the sickening realization of what had taken
place during the many months that he had been consumed by his own selfish
and trivial pursuits.
Special Thanks to Debbie
Date Added: 4/10/00
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