I received an e-mail from my church secretary (it's below). It is apparently a story that has been getting wide cirulation by e-mail. It was a forwarded account of, get this, Dubya going to church! And he greeted people in a friendly manner! And he didn't demand special treatment! (Well, until the end of the service)
At first, I tried to figure out if the story was bogus or not. The named church does exist where the letter says it was, and as Dubya spoke at the National Governor's Association meeting in DC that day, he probably was in town instead of taking his usual weekend away from the capital.
But then, I was struck by the sheer insipidness of the article. What's next? "I saw the President tie his own shoes!" "I saw the President smile at someone he didn't know!" "I saw the President chew his own food!"
I'm at the 8:00am service at my church, St. John's Episcopal, at Lafayette Square, across from the White House. (I wanted to go early because I was going with Alice and Brent for breakfast at the Cracker Barrel in Manassas.) Much of the service was uneventful--nice, but uneventful--until it comes to the part of the service when the priest says, "Greet one another in the name of the Lord." I turn to my right to exchange the peace with my friend, Amy Fox Smythe, who was on the other end of my pew. I then shake hands with the person in front of me, and turn around to say hello to the person behind me. The person behind me was our 43rd President George W. Bush. I am not kidding. A small crowd was forming around him, and not wanting to delay the church service or bother him by waiting to shake his hand, I turned back around and sat down and talked to Amy. About 30 seconds later I felt a hand on my left shoulder and turn around to see President Bush with his hand extended. "Peace of the Lord, " he said and held my hand with both of his. "Peace of the Lord," I replied, and held both his hands and smiled at him. I turned back around and was remarkably calm about the fact that the most powerful person in the world was sitting two feet behind me. I could hear him flipping through his bulletin as the priest made the announcements. I loved the idea of him thinking, "Oh, there's a covered dish next Sunday." We perched and when I stood up to go to the communion rail, he got up and walked down the aisle behind me. We passed a little old lady who said, "Mr. President, I pray for you every day." To which he said, "That's a very special gift. Thank you so much." We got to the communion rail and there were two spaces, one in front of us and one around the side of the altar. We both surmised for ten seconds and then I started off around the corner. He stopped me and whispered, "No, no. I'll go around" and motioned for me to take the closer spot. The only exception made in the entire service was that the President was allowed to leave first and then the rest of the congregation followed.