invisible brethren

Yes, I know the title sounds like something spiritual and exciting, and hopefully sometime I'll have occasion to write about that meaning of the words. All it means today is that last night we stopped at a Church of the Brethren (a peace church, related to the Mennonites) and went to knock on the rectory door, feeling somewhat at home. Our church at Plow Creek is Mennonite, and I have a Church of the Brethren friend I met in Nigeria. But the "rectory" seemed a little odd somehow; though there were signs of life (fishing poles on the porch, a station wagon) no lights were lit, no-one answered, though a dog barked loudly from inside. A light was lit in the back of the church as well; we knocked; no answer. These things weren't that odd, I grant you, but the odd thing is that we went and sat under the picnic shelter (our chosen resting place; rain was predicted, though it didn't come) and waited for something to change, as it was bound to--and it didn't. Who goes away and leaves a dog in the house, the porch lights on, the car there and a light on in the church and doesn't come back for hours? I started to worry that someone had died inside, and no-one had found them.

Night fell, and we started to notice a faint light in the house. So faint that Paul thought it was the porch-light shining in through the window. No, it was a light; why was it so faint? Because the blind was all the way down. In fact, as we began to notice, all the blinds were all the way down. The light went out (at least they were alive in there!) and another, just as faint, flicked on. We speculated on whether the doorbell was broken or they somehow hadn't heard us; we shouldered our packs and went to the door again, knocked once and again and again, thought we heard a sound from inside... as we walked away from the door a second time, "Hey!" I pointed out. "Their car's got a Support Our Troops bumper sticker." A little odd for a peace church. We bedded down, finally, convinced we'd stumbled upon a Church of the Brethren that rented its rectory to a recluse with a dog who likes to fish and supports the troops.

And I guess we had. I guess we'll never know.