The parson had just completed the course he followed every other day on his run. He prided himself on an obvious ability to maintain a physical regimen that belied his age. Now, daily run complete, he rested for a quick moment, just enough time to cool down, before heading inside the recreational center to take a shower. Before he could enjoy that moment, however, Walter Jensen walked up.
“Hello, Parson,” chirped Walter, “aren’t you a bit old to be looking that frazzled?”
The parson took the tail of his shirt and wiped the sweat from his face. “How are you, Walter?”
“Good, Parson; couldn’t be better?”
“And Allison?” the parson inquired about Walter’s wife.
“She’s spending a week down at the beach with her daughter, Helen. You remember Helen, don’t you?”
“I do, Walter. Give Allison my love.”
“I’ll do that.”
Walter then sat down on a bench across from the parson. The parson said nothing. He was thinking about the shower and was not thrilled with Walter having plopped himself into his afternoon.
“What do you think about that crap in Vermont?” Walter asked.
“What crap in Vermont?” the parson asked.
“The law they passed saying gays can get married.”
“Actually, Walter, until you walked up I hadn’t thought about it in ... mhhh, let’s see ... maybe twenty hours.”
“It’s a serious problem, Parson.”
“What’s a serious problem, Walter?”
“People of the same sex getting married. It’s going to ruin marriage.”
“Whose marriage is it going to ruin?”
“Everybody’s.”
“Not mine.”
“It will, Parson We have to stop this, somehow.”
The parson stood. He used his shirt to once again wipe his face.
“Look, Walter,” said the parson. “I can see where you’re planning to go with this. And I’m all prepared to tell you how years ago you thought blacks and whites shouldn’t get married. But Henry over at your church is black, and Shirley, his wife, if I’m not mistaken is white. Years ago Walter you wouldn’t have let Henry join your church and if Shirley had married him you’d have kicked her out. I’m also prepared to point out to you that I personally know there are two couples in your congregation who live together and are not married and have children. Years ago you would have wanted them kicked out of your church. And you know what, Walter, in both those cases years ago you would have used the Bible to justify your judgmental attitude.”
The parson paused a moment, ran his hand through what hair he had left, and leaned forward. “So Walter don’t you even try to start quoting scripture with me about same sex unions. If you did we’d get into a Bible quoting contest and you’d lose, Walter. You’d lose, Walter, and I’d enjoy throwing the scripture back in your face. But more than that Walter, I’m tired of this bogus issue. When your congregation starts spending ten percent of your total offerings on helping the poor, on clothing the naked and feeding the hungry let me know. Until then, Walter, don’t talk to me about what’s Christian and not Christian about any kind of marriage. Until then, Walter, you’re not qualified to host the discussion.
“Now, excuse me, Walter. When you walked up I was almost cooled off. But not I’ve got myself all heated up again. I’m going to go take a shower and cool off. After that I’ll probably feel terrible for jerking you up up like this. But right now it feels pretty good.
”Now go home, Walter. Go home and call Allison. Call her and tell her you love her and you miss her. Do that, Walter, because the greatest threat to your marriage is not some gay couple in Vermont. The greatest threat to your marriage is the way you ignore your wife.”
The parson turned and headed toward the shower.
Amen, Parson. Amen.
Posted by: Scott | April 12, 2009 at 11:10 PM