Every Sunday for much of my childhood, till around the age of 15, I had to attend Church where, by rote, I learnt how to sit, kneel and stand. As the mass was in Latin who had any clue as to what was being said, until of course it came to the sermon.
Sermons ranged from the proverbial fire and brimstone to less than lucid ramblings, perhaps induced by too much of the good stuff; altar wine.
Only one sermon across all those years, told by a priest I heard preach only once, remains with me. It was a story about a juggler who habitually came into the Church to juggle in front of the altar but would equally habitually get thrown out of Church for such inappropriate behaviour.
That was, until a new priest arrived and realised the only thing the juggler had to offer God was his juggling.
Its been suggested to me in recent times that I can have a tendency to “preach”. Its certainly not the most endearing of habits and I can see the truth of it.
The obvious conclusion would be that I picked it up from listening to all those sermons, but that’s not the case.
I’m no great believer in any religion nor the upper case Gods of mens’ making.
I have to however thank that priest for telling me that story all those years ago, not as a priest but as a human being.The virtues of compassion and understanding transcend any religion and its against that which, ultimately, we have to each measure our own lives.
My observation of my own life is that it is usually the smallest truth which lights the flame but its the larger universally accepted ones which try to extinguish it.
As to the preaching, well the voices in my head, when that happens, are certainly not ghosts from the pulpit.
How to be an apprentice (lower case) god 