Women and men of the cloth are known to preach out against all kinds of sinfulness, both real and imagined. I’ve heard sermons that admonished against chewing tobacco, playing Dungeons and Dragons, and dancing the hustle. Some members of the clergy use the pulpit as a hedge against bad theology—saving the members of their flock from falling into a sure perdition for giving an inaccurate accounting of when Jesus shall return with both barrels of the predestination shotgun blazing with hell’s fury.
Not me. This evening I’m going to preach out against the comma, that lowly punctuation mark with the power to clarify and to confuse. Continue reading