December 27, 2018

love feast ii

The thing about real friends is that they're real.  They are flesh and blood and heart and mind and word and deed.

And that's why we went to another Moravian love feast this year.

The church is tiny, cozy, and rented from the Methodists, an unremarkable brick building on a hill close by the side of a winding mountain highway that touches no town and serves only to connect one place to another.

There were perhaps thirty people in attendance, fewer than expected.  There were illnesses and circumstances of absence.  A basket full of buns was to be left over.  I envied the baker, though one could tire of anything eventually, even a Moravian bun, with its hints of sweet orange and butter.

We sang all of the Christmas hymns.

We listened to a little girl recite the second chapter of Luke.

We listened to our friend, our real friend, the pastor of this humble yet fiercely cohesive congregation, give a homily about needing to give off brighter light in our growing darkness, give a blessing of peace based on that light and love.  We left the building with a sense of peace in our hearts, imparted by flesh and blood, heart and mind, word and deed, imparted by a real friend and real people around us.

The thing about real peace is that it is real.  It need not come from anything imaginary.

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