I rather like the idea of church being everywhere... but you draw your own conclusions

The Brass Communion Rail

BY THE REV. DR. BENJAMIN PRATT

Ever present Lord,
I was sitting on a bar stool
At the local Sports Bar,
My feet on the brass rail,
Having a Guinness and a burger.
Keeping an eye on the game,
I opened my laptop, 
Taking notes for an upcoming sermon.

Three young men approached—
Teased me about drinking black, bitter mud.
I said, “Guinness is Gaelic for ‘genius’!
I’m hoping to be one
Since I’m trying to write a sermon.”
We laughed.

They teased me some more:
“Your team’s losing Pastor!”

I loved those guys right away.

They kept me laughing and finally said,
“Maybe we’ll see you Sunday, Pastor!
Hope the Guinness works, 
But if it doesn’t—
A fiver says your Heart and Faith will!”
They were off, their laughter ringing.

Back at my pint and portable,
Sipping and tapping notes,
I noticed a man a few stools over—arise.
He shuffled my way,
“Excuse me, did I hear those guys call you Pastor?”

“You did!”

“I’m surprised to meet a Pastor drinking in a Sports Bar,
But maybe things have changed!
I haven’t been in a church since …
Well, the truth is: I left! They made me so mad!
I couldn’t or wouldn’t ever live up to their standards of perfection. 
Hypocrites! They didn’t live up to them either.
I knew what they did when they weren’t at church.”

“You still have a lot of sadness about that,” I said.

“I thought I was only angry, but—
Maybe I am sad about how it all worked out.”

“You wouldn’t have spoken to me if you were only angry.”

“Where’s your church, Pastor?”

“Lots of places. Sunday mornings on Elm Street.
More often in hospital rooms, funeral parlors, gardens, offices, the jail,
Or at this Brass Communion Rail. 
Looks to me like you’ve already joined us.
Welcome!”

He sat again.
This time on the stool next to me.

My silent prayer:
Ever-present Lord,
Bless us to know that our 
Brass Communion Rail
Is where we join You in tending bar, 
Bringing grace to anyone in need.

Amen