My Sermon from the Mount of Clothes Piled High at Old Navy

One of my resolutions is to go to church more this year. As a lapsed Catholic who thinks she’s as close to sainthood as she’s ever going to get, I figure it’s time to show up to “class” more (so to speak). Needless to say, I usually hate the whole experience. Not the mass—but definitely the people.

Every week, it usually goes like this: I walk in, spirits high, expecting holy redemption for my sins, only to be shoved over in the pew, coughed on my a kid who should’ve stayed home and then forced to endure a rambling sermon by an octogenarian who can passionately recount life in 6 A.D. down to the smallest detail…. because I’m pretty sure he was there.

At this point in the mass, I’m usually more than annoyed than when I first got there and start to gripe all about it to God (the poor guy).

This week it was a little different.

Have you ever sat in an auditorium and felt like the person was speaking directly at you causing you to slide down in your pew (ahem…seat) more? That was me yesterday. We had a new priest who gave a simple sermon all the while staring right at me shoved in the middle of the last pew in the church.

He spoke to three simple points (or maybe I just didn’t remember the rest of the sermon, who knows) but it went more or less like this:

1) Be patient (like I have the time…)

2) Don’t gossip (apparently it dims the light in your soul…oops…didn’t know that.)

3) Don’t buy what you don’t need (ouch!)

At this point, I really wanted to sneak out of the back of the church but was encased in the middle of the pew with no way out. Damn it!

So what do I do after the final “Peace Be with You” is shared? Embrace my ADD and hit up Target and Old Navy on my way home.

And this is where it got interesting.

As I walked into Old Navy, I was awe struck by the copious amounts of colorful hoodies, sweat shop t-shirts, and mismatched sweats thrown in heaps on the floor which were now overflowing into the aisles. The store looked like a consumer tornado had just ripped it apart. It was so bad, I had to take a picture:




I think God was giving me a not-so-subtle hint, don’t you think?

I’m not one to preach, but really, do we all need another $5.00 hoodie? At a time when unemployment is in the double digits and people are losing their homes, is another cheap T-shirt going to make all of us feel better about our lives?

(To be completely honest, the little ADD voice inside my head says “yes!” until the rational side of my brain recognizes that I’ll only shove it in my overflowing closet only to forget about it until I find it months later after never even wearing it.)

As I left the store and ran to my car in the -5 degree weather, it occurred to me that maybe if we all bought a hoodie for the homeless (or more appropriately a coat) we would help clear the clutter in the stores, in our closets and in our own hearts.

So I’m going to put this out there: Next time you see a great sale and can’t wait to buy, buy, buy… remember to buy for those who would actually wear the item every day—not your niece or nephew, son or daughter—but the stranger on the street who could use a brand new hoodie.