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Some churches are like cat ghettos

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My jogging route takes me by a dilapidated house that has a problem with feline fecundity. Not too long ago, a normal number of cats sat upon its porch. But recently, the place has been racked by a cat population explosion that is the scandal of the neighborhood. Now there is barely any room f…
By Seth Barnes

cat ghetto 1My jogging route takes me by a dilapidated house that has a
problem with feline fecundity. Not too
long ago, a normal number of cats sat upon its porch. But recently, the place has been racked by a
cat population explosion that is the scandal of the neighborhood. Now there is barely any room for an animal to
stretch or sun itself on the porch.

The sad thing is, the place smells like a giant litter
box. It has become a squalid cat
ghetto. Our own cat situation got like
that several years ago. Before we knew
it, we had ten cats mewing for food. One
of them named “China”
was my favorite. But something had to be
done, so Lisa and Kevin did us the favor of carting every caterwauling last one
of them except for Chloe off to the Humane Society. It was a sad day in Catville.

Churches can be like cat ghettos. Feline dependency can begin to smell after a while. “Feed me,” the parishioners mew on Sunday morning. But the only thing they ever produce just stinks. Cats weren’t meant to live that way. Church should never become so ingrown.

I like the metaphor of cats running amok. Many things in life, left to themselves, will
breed and become an out-of-control scandal.
Scruffy habits flower and become obsessions. Festering bitterness putrefies into
full-blown hatred. And then only
ruthlessness will set things aright. Cat
ghettos only become more fetid over time – they demand intervention.

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