What I Do Instead of Church

My average Sunday morning goes about like this:

- Wake up early and go for a jog

- Give Inez a slightly longer walk than usual around the neighborhood

- Nod to morning kindred spirits, also out and about while the world is still sleeping

- A leisurely breakfast of coffee and warm bread

- Bike to the indoor farmer's market, where I might buy farm eggs, local cheese, shitake mushrooms, hearth-baked bread, organic sprouts, and a little something sweet . . . and if I'm lucky, quirky John Greenfield will be playing his guitar and singing about Illinois, or beets, or the pleasures of walking, or some sundry topic he's worked into a song

- Pop over to our new grocery co-op to supplement my market haul

- Come home and consider what to cook up for dinner.

I dare the faithful to convince me that any sermon or hymn brings as much meaning to them as these Sunday rituals bring to me. I raise my coffee mug to Sunday, grateful for the hours and the myriad ways to fill them.