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The Preacher’s Corner By Rev. Dr. Milton Winter Laundry – another reason to hate Mondays Monday
is laundry day for me. That is hardly earthshaking news, for most of
the world, I think, chooses Monday for the wash. Grandmother Winter
used to tell me about boiling laundry out in the backyard in a big wash
pot with a roaring fire beneath. The clothes would be washed in lye
soap that was also made in a big pot with a roaring fire underneath. Aunt
Effie told how she would sometimes hang out the clothes to dry and the
wind would shift and blow smoke from the trains that ran behind her
house. Uncle George was an engineer on this line and would send out a
happy toot from the whistle as he ran by—oblivious to the fact that
Aunt Effie might have to redo the wash from the coal smoke wafting from
his locomotive. I am glad I have machines to do
this work, but I had to reflect on the fact that I almost always do
this on Mondays, and my theme is -- old habits die hard. You see, my
mother, following the example of her mother, always did wash on Monday.
This was as much a ritual as church on Sunday. For me as a kid coming
up, this meant Monday was all the more — well, Monday — because I had
to roll out of bed extra early, not just because it was a school day,
but because Mama had to get my sheets and blankets for the washing
machine. We had to get up earlier on Monday than on any other school day. No wonder I have never liked Mondays. As
a preacher my down-time comes on different days than most people—and,
please — none of that about preachers working only one day a week. But
as much as I grew up hating laundry on Mondays, you’d think I would
choose some other day, but I don’t. See what I mean about old habits
dying hard. Habits are very powerful things. We
probably could not function without them. If we did not have routines,
if every aspect of life was spontaneous and unplanned, we would have to
think too much. This is why people become upset and out of sorts when
their daily routine is disrupted. A vacation is one thing, ongoing
chaos is something else. My best church members
are the ones who come to church by habit. I heard a wise preacher say
last Sunday that the most important thing you do for the church is to
show up. People may have religious faith without assembling with
others, but you cannot have the church. I know a
small church that dried up and died because the members were all blasé
about their church. They had counted on others to keep the organization
going, but those people went to heaven, and then the old church died.
Now there is much sadness, but if the succeeding generation had done
what the earlier generation did the church would still be there. We are
going to see this happening with churches more often I think. People
need to think about their habits. There are good habits. There are bad
habits. There are mindless habits. But our unexamined habits need to be
looked at. If they run counter to the common good, they need to be
challenged. Is the best worshiper the one who
attends the most services? Only God knows. But at least they are there,
and those are the ones I can work with. Others may challenge the
church’s hypocrisy and shortcomings, but I will give those who come an
E for effort. It is easy to remain unsullied when one keeps oneself
above the fray, but by the same token, we will never really know what
such a person is capable of. The churches need a
few more people that are as regular in their churchgoing as my
grandmother was in doing her laundry. Those old habits that die hard —
they may just come in handy some day. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some clothes to fold.
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