I Am On The Low Wall Around The Village Church Of England, Aren 't You?

1721 Words Sep 7th, 2014 7 Pages
It was Sunday lunchtime, two men sat on the low wall around the village church dedicated to Saint Matthew. The morning service had dismissed an hour earlier and it was several hours before the faithful went to evening service. A weak winter sun brightened the day, making the air a touch less cold than it had been all week. The men sat outside because on weekday it was dark when they went to work, and dark when they went home. One of the men had a handsome pile of cheese and onion sandwiches in his kerchief. He shared them generously with his friend. Handing him a doorstep sized sandwich he looked at the house of worship, and asked his friend if he had been inside the church.
“Never have and never expect to,” returned his companion with feeling.
“Why not? You’re Church of England, aren’t you?”
“I am on paper, but that has nothing to do with it. Most folks are, but not many bother to go. How about you?”
“I used to go, but I stopped some years back.”
“Why,” asked his companion through a mouthful of sandwich. “What stopped you?”
“To tell the truth, I didn’t like praying with the enemy! I have little in common with Church Men and King Men.”
“You mean the parson sides with the rich?”
“Exactly! The squires, parsons, magistrates, and owners are all of a kind, and that kind is not our kind. They made me contrary and argumentative, so I stopped going. I didn’t want to lose my job”
“I know what you mean but is that the same as falling out with God?”
His friend didn’t answer…

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