The Church of Christ Without Church

I took my packages to one of the smaller Post Offices around here today so I could treat myself to a little scenery and to evaluate the incompetence of US Postal workers at another location. I wasn't disappointed by either the scenery or the people in the post office. First, the Postmaster (a salaried federal employee with an average pay of more than $60,000 per year) demonstrated both her ignorance of geography and her inability to pronounce 'Czech', by pointing and asking, "Where is that?", with a look on her face that belied her hearfelt conviction that nowhere is as clean and sweet-smelling as America, " Russia?" I opened my mouth to explain, then thought better of it. After all, I needed my package to get to Lenka safe and sound. When a regular customer came in, the Postmaster and she (a Briton, no less) began to expound upon the many virtues of real torture for people in prisons and to complain about the cushy lives prisoners 'enjoy' at public expense. After listening to this for as long as I could, I asked them if either of them had ever toured a prison or known anyone who had done time in one. "Noo," they both answered, the stench of my knowledge of such things flaring their nostrils. (Criminals, foreigners, and the people who know them all smell bad, apparently). I admit that I should have kept my mouth shut, but when have I ever been good at that? I pointed out the lower recidivism rates in prison systems that educate, counsel and train the incarcerated, and that the fact is that prison inmates do not get three square meals and a cot in a climate controlled room with cable TV. Of course, they didn't buy it. I wish I had the courage at such times to ask "what would Jesus do?" and to ask if they are aware of any teaching of Christ which sanctions punishment, to tell them about my church, the Church of Christ without Church just to watch them gawk. They wouldn't be listening to really hear the name of it. Me and Hazel Motes. Fine company I have put myself in. We're preaching to the masses, who wear their church on their cars and their faith in their mouths.