I wake up on a beautiful Sunday morning. I make a cup of tea and go to sit on the veranda. I listen to the birds singing, the wind blowing in the trees, a cock crowing, a child calling its mother, a woman singing somewhere. A car passes on the road, a piki piki, a young man chatting on his phone; the quiet resumes.
“This is the day that the Lord has given.” The day of rest. Maybe later I will go somewhere, but for now, I sit and enjoy the peace. There is no hurry today. Retired as I am, I still have many things to do, many tasks to attend to, but…..
“Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with Thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.” [Song Offerings, by Tagore]
Today I can sit for a while to enjoy and appreciate all the beauties and gifts of life.
Suddenly the silence is shattered! Some loud music blares out from a loudspeaker, followed by a hoarse voice shouting at the world, a tormented voice, clearly in pain and desirous to share his pain with the rest of us, so that we feel it too. What is it? A man praying through a microphone. He calls himself a follower of Jesus Christ who taught us to love our neighbours as ourselves; who taught us that when we pray we should go into our room, shut the door and pray to God in secret. This is followed by loud singing, a few voices and a keyboard complete with woofer and its penetrating beat, in the background.
Why go on? You all know what I’m talking about.
Sunday, the Day of Rest, is destroyed……