In a Facebook comment, I admitted that I wasn’t too keen on being showered with viscous respiratory expellant by someone in the pew behind me trying to hack up a lung.
There is no reason why those suffering such afflictions shouldn't stay home.
As an omniscient deity, it's not like God is not able to determine whether you are legitimately sick or trying to pull a fast one over His eyes.
This sentiment is especially pertinent in a church that insists upon some asinine handshaking ritual where some won’t return to their pews until they’ve smeared their palms over every last palm in the congregation.
For sharing this observation that has no doubt crossed the mind of others, it was insinuated my faith was not as sincere as those that participate in foreign missions.
For responding that not everyone’s cup of tea is made of Third World sewer water, I had James 1:27 tossed back in my face about pure religion being visiting widows and orphans in their time of trouble.
I have visited people in hospital settings despite the near phobia I have of those places.
But I guess those I visited were too White and American to rack up any brownie points over yonder.
And unlike missionaries that send out photocards with their fifteen kids all dressed the same like they are members of some sort of cult, I don’t stretch out a hand expecting something to be placed in it while droning on incessantly how morally superior those dwelling in these heathen trashpile countries are to the run of the mill American Christian that doesn’t practice the faith at the level of a religious fanatic.
by Frederick Meekins