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stories of noisy silence

conversation with the priest 


do you talk with god? can you taste his or her presence?

let me introduce you to someone. . . come with me . . . this is george.

george was dirty. his home was the park bench. he smelled of two-day old urine and cheap wine. his clothes were last washed maybe 5 months ago. his face had lines of forsakenness, loneliness, and loss. george had a grey backpack with a broken zipper. in it there was a wadded sweater with frayed sleeves, a paperback bible, a collection of bottle caps, and an ugly tie for special occasions.

george, do you talk with god?

let me tell you about my conversations about god. people come to me and pity me. they give me these pieces of paper with cheesy pictures. [he opened a hidden pocket in his backpack and showed me a library of evangelism tracts.] they did not offer me water, bread, and certainly not wine. but i have seen too many people pass by this park to think that that is all there is. i think that i talk to god when i see a smile. i feel certain that god is there when i beg enough money for a bottle of wine. also if someone listens to me, i feel as though i am talking to god.

would you like this tie? it is a good tie. i don’t have any need of of it anymore. i think it would look good on you.

thank you.


About david b. clark

a husband and father || a student of philosophy, theology, history, literature, music, art, computer science


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