THE ELDERLY MAN in the red sweater two rows in front of me makes me glad I’m here, gladder than I already am. On a January Sunday after a week of cold temps, I like seeing him and all the other sweatered and smiling souls who venture forth early. We stand to sing.
There is something in the red-sweatered man that makes me smile as if I’d been told something wonderful. It’s that he came, that he came when he could have just as easily stayed home. And I also like, if I am allowed to say this, that at his age he has not given up choosing to wear red. I make a note to myself about that.
I’ve not yet stopped learning from those older than me. Those younger, too. I love the oldest and the babies and all that fall in between. We are knit together.
“I rejoiced with those who said to me,
‘Let us go to the house of the LORD.’”
– Psalm 122:1