Here’s my Father’s Day story of the day:
Being the good little Episcopalian that I am, last Sunday I googled Episcopal churches in Astoria and was excited to see that one was located just a block away from me. However, I was unable to find it after searching up and down this rather residential street, and concluded that it either didn’t exist and Google maps was being quite the vindictive prankster (since it sensed my preference for Mapquest) or this church was located in someone’s basement. Um. . .no thanks. I’ll pass.
So this week, I tracked down the second nearest Episcopal Church (the nearest if non-existent churches are excluded from the ranks) and instantly fell in love with this quaint 1866-erected building: Church of the Redeemer.
The sermon today looked at the story of when Jesus removed demons from a man and sent them into a herd of swine. The strange thing was that during this reading, I suddenly became overcome with the strong smell of bacon, especially during the part when the pigs were sent to their deaths. And my initial thought, though partially freaked out a bit, was “Dang. This church was good” and also, “If they do the reading from Ezekiel where bread is cooked over cow poop – I’m out of here!”
Well, it turned out I wasn’t completely crazy, because they were actually having a Father’s Day brunch after the service, and they had indeed been cooking bacon. Phew!
And on that – Happy Father’s Day!