Clear the Clutter. Make Room for Love.

Clear the Clutter. Make Room for Love.

The pastor’s Sunday was ending badly. He lived in New York City, had arrived at the church before sunrise and now, in the evening, he was making the long subway ride home. He was angry with himself for how the sermon had gone. He was more than a little threatened by the church up the street that seemed to be thriving. That pastor was younger than he was. After youth group, a mother had complained about acolytes who wore sneakers instead dress shoes ofโ€“ right in front of a sneaker wearing kid. The pastor cringed inwardly. He hadn’t defended sneaker wearing because the dress shoe mother had a very dressy bank account. He missed his train, so he had grabbed a hot dog โ€“ well two โ€“ and some fries – which was just one more thing that felt out of his control. Another man got on the train with three children. The father seemed to be in his own world. He didn’t say a word to the children. The oldest sat sullenly with a mustardy hotdog dripping onto the floor. The two younger ones were fortified with chips, candy and cans of pops, as they bounced incoherently around in aisles. The pastor remembered he had only seen his own children across crowded rooms today and they were likely to be asleep when he got home, which made the pastor more annoyed. When the youngest child, placed a handful of bright orange Cheetoh dust hand on his black dress pants the pastor had enough. “For the love of God!” he almost shouted. “Watch your children.” The father roused himself....