When I was quite young, I asked my Mother if I could go to Church.
She said,” Sure, if you can find a ride.”
This was the beginning of my spiritual hitchhiking. My next door neighbors accommodated me, the wayward child of liberal agnostics; where they went, so went I. The first Church was Congregational with a boring Sunday School. Every week I was given the same picture of Jesus on a card or bookmark. I probably... [more]