I belong to “the theological community” the way a tangle-bearded cave dweller belongs to the Junior League.
But my cave is sumptuous. There are rich carpets and the light is soft gold. The worn out La-Z-Boy by the fire with the 1970’s burnt orange afghan thrown over it is for visiting deity. My Most Beloved God comes over once in a while and lets me sit in his lap while he combs out my beard.
The blue velvet couch is for you.