Communing With Howie

Howie is my friend. I really admire that man. He can do just about anything there is that can be done with tools. Given the chance, I’d follow him around for a day just to see what-all and what-for he does. It would be a real learning experience. Then maybe he’d sit back and have a long drink of beer or tea or whatever with me and just talk. That would be the best part of it all. He has a simple wisdom about him that is precious in a not-cute way.

Howie explains Closed Communion this way: Folks don’t mind having a Sam’s card, do they? Well why do they object to Closed Communion? At Sam’s they treat you like you’re going to rob the place before you even get in, and you had to pay for that piece of plastic in the first place. Then they’ve got folks always watchin’ ya, an’ followin’ ya, an’ eyeballin’ ya whatever you do. When you try to give ‘em more money for what you want, they ask to see that bitty piece of plastic you’ve already paid for that tells them you have a right to be in their store in the first place once again—as if you didn’t have a right to be there—and then they don’t even act nice when they take your money. Top it all off, they act like you’re tryin’ to steal ‘em blind when you’re leavin’ the store with stuff you’ve already paid for. Now folks just line up and crowd up to get into Sam’s as if it was the best thing to be abused like that, and never once complain that they’ve been insulted. But let the pastor tell ’em how the Lord says things ought to be with his Body and Blood and they act as if they’ve been made a fool of before the whole world. Come Sunday mornin’ the pews are pretty near empty, to boot. I just don’t get it.

Howie’s the man!