I think the church might be dying. I know. It makes me sad too. It freaks me out a little. I mean, here I am working to be ordained and wondering what the church might look like. I wonder if I am not banging on the doors of a building being condemned, asking to help captain a ship that will never sale again. I think a lot about the future of the church. Worry isn’t the right word, but dream about isn’t it either. It is mostly a wonder on my best days.