Sin

Oh sinners let's go down, let's go down, gonna go down. Oh sinners let's go down, down to the river to pray.

Drapped in the white robes, I go to the river to pray, to be scrubbed clean, absolved, resurrected. Others come, through the woods, down the sloping hill to the river which is cold and deep this time of year. Late summer rains have made the river swell her banks.

The teachers are there to guide us, hold our hands, cradle our heads as we bend back into the waters. I am ashamed. I have sinned again, and again, against my family, my neighbors, most brutally myself. I have thrown myself away time and again to impatience, to wanting control, to stinginess, to sloth. To the untamed anger, to not having enough.

Still, I am welcomed here among the sinners. Bringing our imperfections with us on wobbly shopping carts, bulging canvas sacks, wicker baskets, cradles, and carts, we come together to the river to shed these heavy burdens we have clung to for so long. In this way, our sins make us humble, alive, creative, and most amazingly, holy again.