A Jew walks into a Southern Methodist Tabernacle.It's a pretty hot day, and the Humidex is at around 174 percent, give or take 1000.
At the door, the usher offers her a cardboard paddle, and asks, "Fan?"
Distracted by looking around for somewhere to sit, the Jew says, "I don't know - I've only ever heard the first act."
Bah Boom Boom.
(They love me in the Borscht Belt)(Me and Henny. Just like this.)
So, if one were to venture to Mathews County, Virginia (which I did), and if one were to have the most amazing Tour Guides in the world (which I did), and if one were to allow oneself to be driven hither and yon throughout this lush, verdant landscape (which I did), one might find themselves at this crossroads:
You hafta know right away that there is some religion being got 'round here.I'm not sure if this particular house of worship has become a heritage site, or if it is still functional. I tend to think that it might be the former, as I'm sure this scene I stumbled upon is an act of senseless vandalism rather than fervent prayer:
Irregardless of its status, on the day of our visit, it still loomed large and silent, yet full of spirit.
And you know me, with my vivid imagination (well, maybe you don't. But my internal life? Endlessly fascinating)(To me, anyways). I could easily envision the pews jam-packed, and a lot of praise swirling in and around and amongst, through the open structure and out into the ether.Without sounding too mawkish, it was the perfect symbol for the Virginia Blogfest - a confluence of spirit, where the sacred was taken to heart.
"Fan?"
Hell, yeah.
