CHRIST NEVER SHOWED UP!

MY LAST SERMON

E.G. here. Yes, now even I am calling myself that. Why not? No one knows my real name, not even you. So this is E.G.'s final entry in this little tragedy.

I'm moving on. Not because of any lack of kindness on Joe's part, but because I've told him this story three times now. And Joe loves it. Tears streaming down his face. And he loves me for telling it. And it's just about the most painful story ever.

So I'll tell it here and pack the bags. And this will be my final gift to Joe, who really doesn't deserve his life, but who does?

He may delete it later, and so, if so, goodbye.

And now, for Joe. And, as he says on each telling, "WITH FEELING!"

THE STORY OF MY LAST SERMON

The setting is a beautiful church on a cliff. The blue waters of the Pacific Ocean can be seen from the pews, from the altar. Where I stand. Starched white collar and everything else black as death. For this is a funeral.

The funeral of my son.

The hymns have been sung, the prayers repeated, the scripture read. I stand before God's people, "my" people:

"Sinners."


E.G.