A plea to my parishioners

Worship at Smithville on Sunday was great! Attendance was good and everyone seemed truly glad to be there. A friend of the congregation had recently been on a mission trip to New Orleans and he told some stories of their work done there. His wife, who grew up at Smithville, shared the special music. The Adult Sunday School lesson, though not intentionally planned this way, fit well with the theme of worship. The scripture lessons, the mission message, my brief meditation and the communion liturgy all related well. Though I always plan worship around a particular theme, the elements of this week’s worship seemed particularly connected. There was indeed evidence of the Spirit in our midst! J

After the service I had a lovely lunch with the couple who had shared with us in worship. As I was getting into my car to leave the restaurant, I looked in my rearview mirror, and to my horror, there was a booger the size of Montana nestled in my right nostril. Oh no! How long had that been there? Did the crowds of people waiting for a table as I exited the restaurant see it? Did my dining companions sitting across from me for the last hour have to work to avoid staring at this dangling dot? Worse yet, was it there during worship? Surely I would have noticed it in the mirror when I got in the car to head to lunch, but I don’t know. Did each person who came forward for communion consider this curious part of my body as they received the body of Christ? Did they offer a prayer that the floaters in the chalice were really just bread crumbs? These and many other equally terrifying questions clamored in my head as I quickly removed the protruding particle from my olfactory organ. Why didn’t anyone alert me of this alien article affixed to my face? Surely someone could have nonchalantly nosed over to me, surreptitiously slipping a tissue into my hand, whispering, “Pastor, I think you might need this.” I would have taken the hint!

But that didn’t happen … this time. While I pray that there won’t be a next time, given the high pollen counts in central Ohio, I am not confident that it won’t happen again. So this is my plea to my parishioners: Should you ever see an olfactory object or any other alien article altering your pastor’s appearance (such as toilet paper stuck to her shoe), please, please, PLEASE save her from herself and any future embarrassment by alerting her of such. She will be eternally grateful. J

Until next time, peace …

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1 Response to A plea to my parishioners

  1. jean gabl says:

    like a bad dream! My dad stlll gets dreams like that all the time, he says. Well, water over the dam, i guess, huh? Fret not. what would be the point?

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