C is for Church Pews and Commas
Yesterday I went to church for the first time since Christmas as part of my goal to go to church for four Sunday’s in a row. Church is a funny thing for me. I have faith and am fairly steadfast in my belief system, but further more, I am steadfast in my desire for traditional church. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for different ideas to ramp of service and bring in new people. However, I am a believer of the church pew. There’s something nostalgic in their simple beauty and construction. I understand, they aren’t stylishly comfy for the rump and He probably doesn’t care if I’m sitting in a pew or a folding chair, but just the same, I care. I don’t plan sitting in one for extended periods of time and traditionally, pews belong in chairs. Originally they didn’t even have bench pads, it was bum and wood. I’m thankful for whatever I can get by way of comfort. Church can be uncomfortable enough as it is . . . picking at your attire for having to dress up on a sunday, shaking hands and wishing good morrow to the unknown, the offering plate, communion – do I or don’t I? It’s all a lot to compute, and that’s not even the sermon itself which may or may not make you think. I confess, my time was split between the sermons, the out of tune singing (I can’t help it – I’m a choir snob), the role-playing (you don’t want to know), and contemplating my high school science teacher in the pew across from me and how he can’t seem to quite sit still and focus. Muahaha, how the tables have turned Mr E. Now who’s not focusing? Yes, this all happened before 10am. And all while sitting in a church pew.
The comma. I feel the comma is a fairly understated punctuation point and frankly, not used often enough. I love the comma. As. You. Might. Have. Noticed. It’s useful and if you’re a talker, like me, comes in quite useful for more eloquent run-on sentences. For me, the comma is like an adjective . . . a dear old friend. More people should use commas. Bring back the comma. Try it. You might like it.