now I reflect back on yesterday—the bittersweetness of each Sunday—the energy and sense of reality; and the hurt of so many absences. Why isn’t everyone there? Why isn’t that sanctuary full on Sunday morning? If worship is as good as people say it is, if I preach this well, if the community is flourishing—why aren’t more people pulled in, more people faithful? This is a deepening hurt and sorrow. I feel the personal rejection, but also the God-rejection—it is not me they are being so feckless with, but God. Do they have any idea of what they are missing? What a poor trade they are making?
