Is It Ever All It’s Billed To Be?

They moved north after seventeen years
in the great Commonwealth of Kentucky.
He went to a liberal arts college in the
town next to where his parents moved,
his father becoming the pastor of what
was billed as a progressive congregation
in an ad in The Christian Century.
The town was smotheringly conservative
and the church was progressive relative
only to its surroundings. He called his
mother and said, “I’m out of money,
mom. Do you have any jobs for me?”
“Well, it’s late September and there
are leaves all over the yard.” “Great,
I’ll be there on Sunday.” “Oh, no, you
won’t.” “Why? It’s the only day I’m
free.” “Because your father is the
pastor of Second Church and we live
in the parsonage.” He shook his head
and thought that they HAD lived in the
Bible Belt. Everything really is re-
lative he ruminated. He sat in his
dorm room missing his Old Kentucky
Home where he could rake leaves on
Sunday and go fishing and ride his
bike and do just about anything else
he wanted to do without the neighbors
passing judgment.

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