I read an interesting piece on Herbert Asbury, the author of "Gangs of New York", in the New Yorker last night. Apparently Asbury was a lapsed Methodist, with three generations of pastors in his family. His comments regarding the church are generally bitter, which probably makes them all the more important for those of us who still attend service (much like we should all read Twain's "Letters from the Earth"). Anyway, there was one section in particular that stood out to me. Asbury wrote a book called "Up from Methodism" and in it he acridly described the story of a local harlot who would take men into the cemetary to offer her wares, and then try to come to church to atone for her sins.

"She was not wanted in the house of God. I have seen her sit alone and miserably unhappy while the Preacher bellowed a sermon about forgiveness with the whole church rocking to a chorus and sobbing, moaning amens as he told the stories of various Biblical harlots, and how God had forgiven them. But for Hatrack (the harlot) there was no forgiveness. Mary Magdalene was a saint in heaven, but Hatrack remained a harlot in Farmington. Every Sunday night for years she went through the same procedure. She was hopeful always that someone would speak to her and make a place for her, that the Brothers and Sisters who talked so voluably about the grace and mercy of God would offer her some of the religion that they dripped so freely over everyone else in town. But they did not, and so she went back down the street to the Post Office, swishing her skirts and brazenly offering herself to all who desired her."

And then this morning I was reading in Matthew 23 for my devotional, and I read this:

"Woe to you hypocrites! because you shut the kingdom of heaven against men, for you neither enter yourselves, nor allow those who would enter to go in."

A strong reminder to us all.