WORDS FROM W.W. November 1, 2012
“The mashed potatoes are ready”, came the voice from the kitchen.
“Is the table set?”
“I think we still need steak knives.”
“Dinner rolls are hot out of the oven.”
“Pitchers of iced tea and water are on the table.”
“Okay! Let’s gather everyone at the table and say grace.”
The six people of various ages converged on the dining room and took their assigned seats. It was their Sunday afternoon custom- dinner after church. It wasn’t called lunch because it took the place of two meals for the day and was served promptly at two o’clock…if church didn’t run long! “Long” was defined as anything exceeding one hour and ten minutes. The pastor was expected to do on-the-spot sermon revisions if the singing, announcements about everything that was happening that week, prayer requests and actual praying time, story time for the children, scripture reading, mission moment, and offering ran long. If Aunt Bessie needed to share about her sister Mildred’s gall bladder untrasound, and Deacon Herman was led by the Spirit to present the prayer request of people using excessive speed driving into the church parking lot, then sometimes the pastor’s message became more of a summary meditation thought.
Pot roasts were in the crock pots, and the Methodists needed to be beaten to the restaurants. Three points and a poem were often “Cliffs Noted” into one point and a quote. When it came down to expository preaching and pot roasts the perceptive pastor knew when to yield.
“Dear Lord! We thank you for your many blessings, and this meal that we are about to partake of. May it be used to give us strength! Amen!”
Five other amens echoed through the room, and then the food started it’s rotation around the table.
“Beautiful solo this morning by Margaret!”
“Yes, it was! She has such an incredible voice.”
“I didn’t realize that Henry Smith was having prostate problems.”
“Nor I! And how about Lorraine having to put her dog down. So sad!”
“Did you see little Angela during the story time? She kept making faces at the pastor. I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“So precious!”
“My insides were making faces at the pastor during the message. What was his point anyway?”
“Don’t ask me! He lost me even before he finished reading the scripture.”
“I timed him today. Twenty-six minutes and thirty-four seconds.”
“He needs to cut it down to twenty.”
“Fifteen, if he would just speak faster!”
“I hate it when he brings in world hunger and poverty during his sermon. It makes me feel guilty having dinner.”
“And, Lord knows, we deserve a nice dinner after having to endure another Sunday lecture.”
“And when he uses one of those more contemporary versions of the Bible it just turns me off.”
“The King James is such beautiful language. It’s almost like listening to a Shakespeare play.”
“I don’t like bringing current events into the pulpit. Stick with what Jesus said and we’ll be fine, but you start talking about what’s going on in the world and you just lose people.”
“Would anyone care for another roll?”
“Please!”
“I tell you…Sunday dinner is the most peaceful time of the week for me.”
“Me too!”
“Amen!”
Words from WW Blog 