Supply Chain Issues

The invitation was embossed in flame, and the large font left no doubt as to the main event: REPENT! That I received the invitation was awe-inspiring; this is THE red-carpet moment for wayward souls like mine, and I didn't even know they had my address, much less that I would be considered worthy of a seat. WOW! What to wear?!?!?!?

There's really only one right answer, of course, and all the design houses are competing for the required materials of sackcloth with the must-have accessory of ashes. One simply doesn't traipse onto the red-dyed path without a proper outfit.

But, alas, supply chain issues. Apparently sackcloth is in very short supply, so much so that every repentant celebrity/denomination/institution in recent days/weeks/months has had to go with some other option. So they wrap themselves in polished statements and third-party-investigative secrets, tears that smear truth and ovations that prop up manipulation. They dim the lights appropriately, then shine the spotlight once more on the reluctant and hopeful-that-this-doesn't-hurt-too-much repenter-of-the-day. The somber moment can't bear the weight of lament and grief and dashed hopes, so instead it becomes a kind of worshipful appreciation of this great person that is almost just like me but-for-the-grace-of-God, and after all, where would we be without all his (usually a male) good works and accomplishments?

Oh look! I found an old stash, tucked away in the bottom of a closet filled with echoes. Sackcloth for the moment. Will I be bold enough to actually wear it?