My first notice of worn, scratched or otherwise marred pews was 1995. A member of a Methodist congregation asked me to inspect and suggest remediation of warped flooring in a nearly century old church. The water caused damage was the result of a hurricane.

Alone in the sacred stillness I became aware of, and took time to reflect on, the vast numbers of people who have worshiped in that place over the years. The walnut floor and pews were well worn by sitters and standers; by umbrellas and purses and assorted items; and restless children. They came with their possessions and left their marks. Obviously countless numbers visited and went away spiritually refreshed.

The nonsense of 2020 has allowed me to once again contemplate the important role of religion in our society. Restrictions on local church services requires me to travel 30 miles or so to be in the Lord’s house on Sunday. In doing so, I have found another church with worn pews. The inconvenience of travel is small compared to the peace of worshiping in a church with worn pews.