As the title suggests, Church People is a collection of poems about individuals she has encountered on her faith journey as a Baptist, Catholic, Presbyterian, Episcopalian, and—I love this—“failed agnostic.” The few poems she read aloud enticed me to buy her book, and since then I’ve read through it at least three times and have insisted other people read it as well.
Having experienced a rather varied path on my own journey of faith and having made my own observations from both the front and back pews, I recognize many of the characters Maria features in her poems: the searching, the sure, the broken, the restored, the disillusioned, the inspired. However, I could never portray them with the heart-tugging poignancy or laugh-out-loud humor Maria does.
Lines and images from her poems linger with me long after I’ve read them, surely a mark of meaningful literature. In “Breakdown,” the despair of a man who “all his life [has] fixed” things but is helpless to repair his “broken” wife haunts me. On the lighter side, in “Billie Sue Gets Her Way,” the “lurching, dive-bombing” notes of bagpipes screeching out “Amazing Grace” give Billie Sue the final send-off she’d hoped for.
|There it was, right inside the door emitting|
an orange, ethereal glow.
What happened next is the stuff of miracles. After I smiled at the greeter and stepped into the deli section, my eyes were instantly drawn to a kind of orange, flourescent glow. And right there on the middle shelf was ... wait for it ... Orange, Jello. Fluff. With the millions of products Walmart offers, what are the odds that item would be the first one I saw? No doubt, many of Maria’s “church people” would’ve considered it a sign.
I know I did.