Why I quit the Black Christian church. A cleaning service was called in to clean dirty church laundry. The wash-day clothesline was growing longer by the day, laden heavy under the load. Stretching out behind the church building too, but not far enough out of sight of curious passers-by and parishioners alike.

Parishioners are mad as well, at the whole debacle. But what we wanted was churches, more than any and everything else. So church it is. Until...