You were the guy who roused me from serene contemplation as I worked at my home computer late the other night. You stood in my front yard and yelled at my second-story window that “The Lord is risen.” Living on a quiet, suburban cul-de-sac, I'm not used to such visits from strangers at 11 p.m. Thanks for making the hair on my neck stand on end. Up until the other night, I probably would have said Christianity is better taught in the home than, say, a public school. Now that I find myself looking out my front window every time I get up, I'm not so sure it should be taught at all.
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