The highest court in the land is still the court of public opinion.
…
Father Jones walked into the sanctuary one weekday afternoon, and as he saw the light cascade through the stained glass windows and onto the altar was overcome with emotion. He knelt before the cross, bowed his head and said in a horse voice, barely ore than a whisper, “God, you are everything. I am nothing.”
His curate, Ms. Smith, walked in just behind him and witnessed this. She too felt the power of the moment, the simple beauty of it all. And as she was a good Episcopal assistant minister, she knelt just behind the rector, bowed her head, and joined with the prayer, “God, you are everything. I am nothing.”
Then Fred, the janitor, wandered in. He, too, felt the waves of the moment. Way back in the pews, he knelt, bowed his head, and prayed, “God, you are everything. I am nothing.”
The two priests looked back and saw Fred. The assistant leaned toward her senior and whispered, “Well, look who thinks he’s nothing.”
What’s the moral of this story?