My mama is eighty-two years old now, lives in the same house she has lived in for the past fifty years. Mama attended a little church down the street which had operated on its corner of the village for more than a hundred twenty-five years. But the church was dying, attendance shrinking, until only a handful of the old guard remained. Well, six, seven years ago the inevitable happened. The church closed its doors and my mama was devastated. Wringing her hands and near tears she said to me, "What am I to do? That place has been my spiritual home for fifty years."
"Why, Mama," I said, "all you have to do is walk right straight across the street to that fine church just opposite your front door."
"But that's a Christian Church. I have been a Baptist all my life, and I'm not about to become a Christian now!"