I can't go anywhere without seeing a current, former, or potential parishioner. It's gotten so my teenage children refuse to eat out with me in our city. They don't like to share my attention with the people I recognize at other tables.
The other day I was leaving my yoga class sweaty and dirty, when I bumped into a new parishioner. This proud father had his four-day-old baby in a carriage by the snack bar. Right there I made the sign of the cross on the child's head and blessed him. I asked the dad to email the church with the details so we could be sure to mention the baby in our prayers. He whipped out his iPhone and sent it right away.
The next Sunday, as I was robed and leading worship, I caught sight of the whole family in the back row. ...
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