from a few to standing room only

excited; we entered the atrium
eager; we looked around
soaking it all in

people gather, in black t-shirts
huddled together, inward
unacknowledged, we slipped by

others centered around their circle,
eating, laughing, backs to us
we walked quietly, more slowly to the wall

sitting at an empty table, I waited.

entering in, a few worshippers in the auditorium,
we awkwardly looked around
the countdown signaling the start....and then
the countdown was reset, with few people there, we waited longer
for the service to begin

no one said hello.
no one smiled at us.
no one acknowledged us.
no. one.

we left.

a few miles away, we entered another building, another place, another church
worlds away from the brief journey down the rode we traveled to arrive in this place

and as a late arrival, we waited in the foyer, until the right moment to enter the sanctuary
and this place was standing room only.  The seats filled to over flowing, we listened and observed, watched and soaked in the service outside of the worship space.

Church.
American Church.

It can be cold and lonely.
It can be full to bursting.
It can be a place to find answers.
It can be a place where questions consume.
It can be a gathering where strangers can become friends.
It can be a reminder that strangers remain strangers still.