Tag: church

We Rise as One

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on May 25, 2014. Posted in General. 5 Comments on We Rise as One

I saw it once. It was on TV. The man was old. He had white hair and a wrinkled face. His arm was raised. He was carrying an American flag, the tiny kind with a wooden stick, the flag no bigger than a First Aid kit. The man was running, as best as his old man legs allowed. He waved the flag. The field through which the man ran was located in France....

The Non-Laity

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on February 14, 2014. Posted in General. 2 Comments on The Non-Laity

We were talking last night about our inward journey—what we are doing spiritually for ourselves—and I was describing a blog I had recently started following. “He’s a priest,” I said, “but—.” I stopped and laughed. I was about to say, “But I like what he has to say.” He’s a priest, but. Sometimes if I listen to myself, i can learn a lot about...

A Sister Sledge Moment

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on December 11, 2013. Posted in General. 2 Comments on A Sister Sledge Moment

“Like an adopted family,” A. said. We were bumping along in the church van. Ten of us crowded the back seats, plus the two church members driving the van. We’d eaten lunch, opened gifts, and enjoyed Christmas caroling. Now we were finishing up our shopping spree at Wal-Mart, returning home. As we traveled through the beautiful...

The Choice

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on December 1, 2013. Posted in General. 2 Comments on The Choice

At St. Anna’s Episcopal Church, we are not a church that welcomes African Americans, by which I mean a white church with a hand-full of African American members. We are not a church that welcomes gays—a straight church reaching out to folks regardless of sexual orientation. We aren’t a wealthy church that helps out the poor among us. At St. Anna’s,...

“Christianity is Too Hard”

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on November 7, 2013. Posted in General. 2 Comments on “Christianity is Too Hard”

The man and I sat down at the art table, staring at the chip bags we would turn into crosses, when he asked, “What led you to do this?” I was preparing to give him my standard spiel about how the tragedy of 9/11 led me to make crosses from broken and found objects. But something made me ask, “Making crosses, you mean?” “No,”...