Church reality

I turned a bit to steal a gaze at him. He seemed to enjoy the moment it made me happy quietly. While he would occasionally read mindlessly the service bulletin, on whole, he appeared calm, introspective, and thoughtful. He would nudge me now and then or paste his thigh so closely against mine as he smiled, but he stared most of the time on the huge cross plastered prominently on the center of the sanctuary.

It was first Sunday of the month. We found ourselves going to church together even if we have known each other slightly over 12 hours earlier. It was late afternoon that time and I just finished working out at the gym. On my way out, I decided to drop by a nearby food place to while away time and catch my breath. That’s when he came. He approaced my table and asked if he can join me. I pulled back my tray to give him space.

We talked and talked and talked some more. It led us mostly to interesting discoveries. I don’t know, but the interest probably lived until the next day since he called and asked what I was up to that morning. He said he was heading to a church service and he wanted to know if it was possible to meet after that. I floated the idea of us going together to my church since the worship schedules were more or less the same anyway. He agreed. That’s how we ended up at the church.

But this is not about the guy. I’m not going to write anything about us. There is no us. He confessed he got into a relationship four days before we met. His eyes turned misty when he spoke about it. So there is no us.

But I insisted on writing this because something took root in me that morning. Nothing new, but something I have always advocated.

For people in a committed relationship, there has to be something more than just their love to keep them together and enrich their bond. For some, it’s a hobby or a sport. Others engage in charity work. For me, it’s going to church. There is something about the sight of a praying man, a prayerful man if you may, that’s infinitely appealing. But what captivates me even more is the idea of surrender, of acknowledging mortality, of recognizing something powerful that puts order into things, of appreciating the need for balance between things of this world and those ones that are spiritual.

That Sunday, I thanked God for letting me feel so strongly about my beliefs. I thanked Him even more for showing it to me clearly that it's not at all impossible to still find prayerful men today. It's just sad that most of them are in their respective relationships already. Be it happy or otherwise. I don't care to know.