My SLS varies with my mood and the moon. Sometimes I think about how race relations and people’s perspectives have and have not changed. Sometimes it’s as simple as what’s on the table for dinner. Sometimes it’s about the overarching kindness you find and share through even casual acquaintances. Sometimes Faulkner’s quote “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” says it all.
Alone In the Old Wooden Church
After Jericho Brown
I enter and resign myself to the back of the old wooden church
Sitting in an unoccupied pew, I lean back and let it all sink in
The preacher thunders his way through the sermon
Lighting up his Sunday gospel message
With fiery admonitions from the Old Testament
Mixing in a measure of New Testament compassion
Firing up the congregation until they stand and shout
Hallelujah … Praise the Lord
Thank You Jesus … Thank You Jesus
He shouts louder still while never losing his cadence and his pious fury
Never wavering in his intensity to prepare them to meet their Savior
Unrelenting in his desire to save their souls
Understand that I revel in this spiritually uplifting cacophony of fire and fury
That I love being part of this community of faith
Insulated in a confluence of black folk who all look comfortingly like me
Some are my kinfolk
Others are childhood friends
Some I remember only as ghosts
Quietly, I sit alone in my pew … hidden in the shadows … lost in my thoughts
And blindingly afraid
Afraid someone will call me out as a young gay man
When the creed for that offense goes very much like this:
Unworthy in God’s eyes
Cannot be allowed into the kingdom of God
Destined to travel the unrepentant sinner’s path to hell
To be judged harshly even by these good souls sitting in my midst
But I truly love this old wooden church
I love its weathered heart-pine timbers
And the soulful sounds that come from the floorboards
I resolve to come back to my beloved sanctuary
Sitting completely alone in the front row pew
With just my God looking kindly on
Comforting my conflicted heart
