So why did I have to watch the Tony's to go to church on Sunday?

In my last post, pre-June 12 and the massacre in Orlando, I moaned about the world expecting preachers to...well...preach. So now I have to eat my words.  (That's a biblical reference, by the way.  Look it up. Ezekiel 3:3)

Sunday, June 12, was a tragedy. On Sunday morning, I didn't know the full effect of the events unfolding in Orlando. I felt like I didn't even have a "church" moment all day, until I heard Lin Manuel Miranda's sonnet acceptance speech at the Tony's:

My wife’s the reason anything gets done
She nudges me towards promise by degrees
She is a perfect symphony of one
Our son is her most beautiful reprise.
We chase the melodies that seem to find us
Until they’re finished songs and start to play
When senseless acts of tragedy remind us
That nothing here is promised, not one day.
This show is proof that history remembers
We lived through times when hate and fear seemed stronger;
We rise and fall and light from dying embers,
remembrances that hope and love last longer (emphasis from the author)
And love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love cannot be killed or swept aside.
I sing Vanessa’s symphony, Eliza tells her story
Now fill the world with music, love and pride.

My heartfelt thanks to this Broadway preacher, who is doing a much better job than me in saying what needs to be said. Say it loud and proud.