Sunday Morning Musings

Sunday morning has dawned and church is just over the horizon.  I have been up a bit and have put on my Sunday duds.  There was a time when Sunday duds were defined by white shirt, tie, a suit, and a pair of Saturday night shined shoes.  Anyone who attends church these days knows that such a person so dressed would stand out among the more casually dressed pew people.  Even most of the preachers have forgotten how to tie a tie and white shirts and suits are, perhaps, in the closet waiting on the next funeral.  Obviously, things have changed.   

 

Attire is not the only thing which has changed about Sunday in my life time.  The holy hour of eleven o'clock no longer exists as worship services are almost held on any hour come Sunday morning.  Maybe multiple services put more people to church services on Sunday.  I will leave that one to the church statisticians, but an observation is that church no longer has such an influence that it is the center of the community's life.  Long years ago the Sunday morning "hooky" players went to the river with their fishing boats, or to the golf club with a bag of sticks; nowadays, the place of choice seems to be some big box store that has its own unique way of taking up the offering.    

 

Actually, more significant changes have been in the works for a long time.  It never occurred to me growing up that the church was irrelevant.  I might have thought it was boring, but not irrelevant.  To be irrelevant means something does not make any difference.  It means it is peripheral instead of central.  It means you can take it, or leave it, and, unfortunately, so many today are choosing to leave it.