How was it that one week we worshipped as usual—though the pastor forbid us to shake hands; I rolled my eyes but OK, the silly "elbow-bump" it was—and the next week, sans any consultation with congregants, Parson Goat shut his doors? Nor did he have the courage to inform us of this radical step in person, relying instead on emails and phone calls.
Many of us didn't take his betrayal lying down. We've contacted Parson Goat and, when our appeals fell on deaf ears, our fellow parishioners, too, in an effort to re-open our churches. And to our further astonishment, folks we considered devout followers of the Lord Jesus resist our attempts to recall them to their Scriptural duties. No one answers either our reasoned arguments for obeying God and defying the State, nor the proof we present that coronapocalypse is a hoax. Instead, Parson Goat accuses us of "stirring up dissent" (well, yeah, Parson, what else can we do when you decided so foolishly?) and "questioning his authority" (bingo) before lapsing into silence. He and his congregation now ignore us, to our dismay and bewilderment.