The other day I was heading to class at Mount Vernon Square and was walking in front of Mount Vernon Place UMC. They have a big wooden cross up there, in front of the those expansive steps. Sitting at the foot of the cross, leaning back against it and facing 9th Street, was a man with his hood up arguing loudly to himself about coal power. It was a cold and rainy day. I'm assuming that this guy didn't have much of anywhere else to go, although I could be wrong.
And I figure that the foot of the cross is always populated by people who aren't sure they have much of another place to go. Who feel like nobody is hearing them but themselves. For cold rainy days.
And I wonder what that has to do with the golden crosses in our sanctuaries.
And I wonder what it means for me, not stopping, just passing by.