Writings
Fred Craddock writes:
When I was a kid, I went to church with my mother. The minister of our little church would speak to my mother. “How’re you, Miz Craddock?” he would ask. And the five of us kids would go along like little ducks after our mother. “How’re you, Sonny? How’re you, Honey? How’re you, Sonny? How’re you, Honey?”
On the Friday after Thanksgiving, my nephew (or to be genealogically precise, the man who married my wife’s niece) was the 60th person in line at Wal-Mart at 5:15 in the morning. Unlike some men who wait until 5:15 on Christmas Eve, John wanted to get in early and get out cheap.
Unless my memory has completely failed me, it was the late Mae West (that queen of burlesque) who used to say: “Always remember, darlings, that too much of a good thing is wonderful.” Obviously, Mae West never cooked with garlic. Or ginger, either.
This being summertime, it is not uncommon for me to run into parishioners on days other than Sundays, in places other than sanctuaries, and have them say to me (sheepishly….and more than a little apologetically): “You probably haven’t seen me in a while, Reverend. But it’s summer, you know. And in the summer, I get my religion on the golf course.”
