The Church and Hell and God

Sara Brown, a twelve-year-old who occasionally visited the parson's church with her aunt, came tearing through the church parking lot on her bike. Seeing the parson, she skidded to a stop.

“Hi, Parson,” she greeted.

“Hi, yourself, Sara,” said the parson. “What brings you to this side of town on a school day?”

“Mom had to take Granny to the hospital for some tests so Aunt Lillian picked me up at school. I'm staying at Aunt Lillian's tonight 'cause Mom's staying with Granny at the hospital.”

“What's wrong with your grandmother?”

“They're talking about replacing her knee. It's funny, Granny is all excited about it.”

“Well I'll say a prayer for her. I hope she does well.”

Sara studied the parson a minute then asked, “Parson, can I talk to you a minute.”

“Sure,” said the parson. The two made their way to a bench in garden beside the front entrance to the church. “What's on your mind?” asked the parson when they sat down.

“Okay,” said Sara, after taking a deep breath. “There's this boy in our class who's been telling those of us that don't go to church every Sunday that we're going to go to hell. So I told him that he was wrong. I told him that a lot of people who don't go to church are really good people and they believe in God and everything but they just didn't go to church.”

The parson started to say something, but Sara was on a tear. “He really made me mad. Here's the thing, Parson. I don't know if I would go to church every Sunday or not if I could get there. But right now I can't drive a car so the only way I could get to church if I wanted to would be …. Oh, I'm sorry, Parson. Look I really like it here when I come with Aunt Lillian, I mean, if I was going to go to church every Sunday, I'd come here. I didn't mean anything about you or this church.”

“That's no problem, Sara,” said the parson, as he silently confessed that he and Sara had a lot in common.

“So anyway, I couldn't go to church if I wanted to because my folks just don't do that. And my Mom and Dad are really good people. So I don't appreciate him saying those things about me and my parents.”

The parson waited.

After a moment, she said, “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are people who don't go to church going to go to hell?”

“You know, Sara,” said the parson, “I think maybe that if that young man in your class is going to believe in that kind of God he should realize that a lot of people who do go to church may go to hell, too.”

Sara smiled. The parson continued.

“Let me tell you a story, Sara. My son doesn't go to church very much. In fact, he probably doesn't go unless he's visiting with me. One day I got on him about that. You know what he told me?”

“No what?”

“He told me that he really believed that you could worship God by hiking in the woods and appreciating God's creation. He told me he though you could learn about God by reading a book. He told me he thought you could be a follower of Jesus without being a church-going Christian.”

“So what did you tell him?” Sara asked.

“I didn't tell him anything, Sara. I just call him on Sunday every once in a while and ask him if he's hiking or reading a book.”

The parson leaned toward her and said, “The important thing Sara is that you're looking for God. And I hope the God you find is too big a God to be locked up inside a church.”

Comments

[net]

Amen, QP. The older this middle-of-the-road pastor gets, the more the path leads left. I know how she feels, too.

[revssathome@aol.com]

Amen!