The Imperfect Expression

This is not the perfect mass. A dog comes in and lays down next to me to escape the heat. Somewhere a baby is crying as another set of kids crawl across the sanctuary chasing the chickens out of the church. The choir is singing off key and it seems that no one can clap on beat to save their life. The barefoot catechist is giving a welcome to the congregation as a small child quietly tugs at his pants. This is church.