Giggling in Church

            Note: Some names have been changed – well, you’ll see why.

            Mom and Becky were down for part of the weekend.  As is typical of Mom, she started telling us stories from way-back-when.  This one is funny, if you can get the mental image from the story.

            It seems that, quite a few years ago, it was time for the church service to begin at St. Peter’s Lutheran Church, just off of Hwy. 378 west of Lexington. The choir was robed and waiting at the back of the sanctuary to process in during the first hymn.  Mom and Mary Lou were at the front of the double lines.  The organist was already playing the first hymn’s introduction.

            That’s when Mom and Mary Lou spotted Mr. Jacob Smith, sitting in his usual pew with “Miss Rose,” as she was affectionately called.  And that’s when Mom and Mary Lou got so tickled they couldn’t hold their giggles inside. 

            It seems that Mr. Jacob, like just about every other man back then, had worn his Sunday hat to church.  Mr. Jacob’s hat must have been an old one, because when Mr. Jacob got inside church and took his hat off, the felt lining had remained on his head, like a faded and flat crown covering his balding spot. 

            So, there Mr. Jacob sat, up near the front of the church, ready to stand and sing, with the felt lining still on his head. 

            And that’s why Mom and Mary Lou processed in that Sunday morning, giggling instead of singing.

~                                          ~                                              ~

A Done Deal? Or Not?

~


It’s a done deal. Or not.

Yesterday morning, during our regular worship service, Karl - a/k/a Dupp or The Duppster - and I exchanged marriage vows, so now I’m Mrs. Karl J. Duppstadt. (I think I spelled that last name correctly!) 

So, it’s true. That part is a done deal. We tied the knot!

We made the commitments and said the vows; the rite of marriage or the sacrament of marriage took place Sunday. We didn’t have what is typically referred to as “a wedding.”

We decided to focus more on the marriage than on a wedding.

It’s the marriage – the rest of our lives – that isn’t a “done deal.”

And it’s the marriage that is the hard work.

The marriage, unlike the wedding, has no finite, predetermined ending time. A wedding is all happiness, excitement and joy; a marriage also contains happiness, excitement and joy, but it includes times of sorrow, difficulty and adversity as well.

Brides and grooms have long lists of friends and family to invite to a wedding. Rarely are others invited to a marriage. I used the word “rarely” because on Sunday, Pastor Troisi asked members of our congregation to commit, by God’s grace, to uphold and care for us in our life together. Thankfully, there was a resounding “We will” from the congregation.

We did invite God to our exchange of vows and we do invite God into our marriage, and we plan to keep Him as a part of our marriage.

Yes, we became husband and wife on Sunday. That part is a done deal.

The marriage work, though, is never a done deal.

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This Must Have Been an Embarrassed Mom

Art Linkletter was right when he proclaimed, “Kids day the darndest things.”

They really do. And some of the best examples surely come from children’s sermons in various churches. How members of the clergy keep from laughing is beyond me!

One incident took place several years ago in a large South Carolina church. It just so happened that this congregation’s services were broadcast live. (Wouldn’t you know it?)

When the minister sat down in the chancel area and called all of the children forward for their special time together, i.e. the children’s sermon, one little girl bouncingly walked forward, dressed in an extremely fancy and frilly dress. She plopped down right next to the minister.

While waiting for other children to come forward, the minister smiled at the little girl and remarked, “What a pretty dress you have on.”

And with the whole congregation listening and all of the broadcast audience tuned in as well, the little girl beamed up at the minister and said into the microphone, “I know, but my momma said it’s a b---- to iron!”

There was no report on how long it took to get the mother up off the floor.



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I Am Totally Embarrassed

Boy, was I embarrassed! I mean really, really embarrassed.

First, a little background. Over the years I’ve had two back surgeries, including a fusion. Overall, both surgeries were successful and brought tremendous relief.

However, on occasion I have severe pain in the lower back, the left hip and down the left leg. This is brought on or aggravated by long periods of sitting in the same position, especially when driving a long distance. It is also aggravated by walking while toting heavy items.

Over the Thanksgiving weekend, I was involved in sitting in the same position for a long period as well as walking while toting heavy items, so I spent most of Thanksgiving weekend in excruciating pain.

By Saturday night, I decided to take something strong for the pain. This wasn’t late at night; it was only about 8 pm or so.

I zonked out – totally.

When I woke up again, it was 11:28 am on Sunday!! I slept through two alarms and a phone call.

I also slept through Sunday School and church. Usually I get up between 4 a.m. and 6 a.m., so 11:28 was like a whole extra night’s sleep.

So, what’s the big deal?

Well, the deal is that I’m the Sunday School teacher! And I slept through Sunday School!

If there’s a positive side to this, it’s that I teach a class of adults, not little children. There wasn’t much chance that class members would leave and run in the road or cause other problems or harm to themselves.

Still, I was totally embarrassed. I e-mailed class members to apologize and got all kinds of responses.

At least if they cut my pay in half, it won’t make much of a difference. After all, half of zero is still zero.

Just the same, I am embarrassed!

Have you ever done anything embarrassing like this?  What?  Share --  just so I'll feel better!

Oops! I Said WHAT???

Yesterday, I was assisting minister at our church for both morning services. 

I'm a Lutheran and have been a Lutheran all of my life.  I've played the organ for services of other denominations and have found so many similarities.  Anyway, having been Lutheran all of my life, one would assume I could remember the service.

Yet, yesterday, when I was supposed to say something like this: "Together, let us use the Apostles' Creed to confess our faith" I said instead "Together, let us use the Apostles' Creed to confess our sins."

Someone told me later that mistake was because I'm much more involved in sins than in faith!!!

Oh, well. 

Embarrassment in Church!

Being a substitute church organist can lead to embarrassment, and it certainly has for me.

So far this year, I’ve filled in at several Lutheran, Episcopal and Presbyterian churches. I’ve been a Lutheran all of my life, although I’ve been employed at various times by a Methodist church, two Lutheran churches, a Catholic school and a Baptist school.

Each congregation within a denomination has its own way of doing things. And that can be a problem.

In our church, near the end of the service, we have a closing hymn, followed by a brief dismissal by the pastor or assisting minister.

Another congregation, though, has the dismissal before the final hymn – except for one Sunday when I was the organist.

Oh, they meant to have the dismissal first, but, when it was time for the minister to say something, I started playing the hymn. No one was singing.


Well, it’s not so easy to read the music, play the organ and look around at the same time. When I managed to glance at the preacher, I noticed he was just standing there, facing the congregation with a smile on his face.


So, finally I stopped playing. He immediately had the dismissal, and then I started playing again, this time with the congregation singing.

After the service, I apologized to the pastor. He smiled and said, “Oh, that’s okay. I had all afternoon. I figured you’d stop playing sooner or later!”

Three weeks ago I filled in at an Episcopal church, which I had done several times previously. Typically the senior warden scans the hymns, then e-mails them to me a few days prior to the service. One of the hymns he e-mailed this time was unfamiliar to me.

This particular hymn was number 512 in their hymnal. Well, when it was time to sing that one, just before the sermon, the minister announced for the congregation to stand and sing number 521. I glanced back in the church bulletin; it had 512, not 521.

Panic set in; I didn’t know whether to play what I had been sent, which was also in the bulletin, or whether to play the one announced by the minister.

Guess which I played? Oh, you don’t want to guess? Well, that’s what that entire congregation had to do while I was playing. Not even one person went with what was in the bulletin – except me. Nobody was singing. So, after one verse, I quit playing.

The minister went to the pulpit and, as he was to begin his sermon, in a friendly voice he said, “Sherry, what was that you were playing?” He waited for an answer, so, from the back of the sanctuary where the organ was located, I apologized, saying that I played what was in the bulletin.
I played at the same church again yesterday; yes, they actually invited me back! When I walked in, the senior warden greeted me by telling me there was a mistake in the bulletin with one of the hymns.

This time, we got it straight before the service started!

Thank goodness, having played for hundreds of church services, weddings and funerals, I don't have many embarrassing moments to write about!!!

In God We Trust

The following is used by permission from the author, Chaplain Glen Krans. He asked that I also acknowledge www.sermonillustrations.com. This "Thought for the Day" from Chaplain Krans is perfect for Independence Day.

This year the United States of America is 233 years old. That's a long time for a nation to remain free. But when you look at nations such as Egypt, China, Japan, Rome, and Greece who have been around for thousands of years, America's history seems short indeed.

Consider what a brief time we've really been here as a nation: When Thomas Jefferson died, Abraham Lincoln was a young man of 17. When Lincoln was assassinated, Woodrow Wilson was a boy of 8. By the time Wilson died Ronald Reagan was a boy of 12. There you have it. The lives of four men can take you all the way back to the beginning of our country.

We are young and yet we stand tall among these nations because of the principles on which we were established: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness”.

This is what we celebrate: the inalienable rights that we have and the fact that we believe they have been given to us by God. Both truths are important. We can debate whether God has blessed us with liberty and therefore we are free, or whether we have wisely and simply built our liberty based on biblical principles. In either case our freedom is from God.

When America was first established as a nation, the feeling was that God had given us an opportunity to do something great! Each person had value and rights. Our democratic society was to reflect that and be run by rules that embody those values. AND THERE WAS ALWAYS AN UNDERCURRENT OF DEPENDENCE ON GOD AND GRATITUDE FOR HIS DIVINE GUIDANCE. You will see that language in every major speech delivered by our founding fathers, in our Constitution, and in each and every preamble to each Constitution of each state in our union.

The difference between then and now is this: even though we still focus on the same values, many Americans have forgotten that God has given all this to us. The result of that denial is that it has become nearly impossible to have a moral conversation in our society. When we deny that this conversation is rooted in God, then it all comes down to “me” and we are left with no common language of moral discourse. That is, when we stop choosing one course over another simply because we know it to be the right thing to do; when we live as though freedom meant doing what we want because we have the “right” to do it; when we have no ability to talk about those principles and mandates beyond ourselves that determine what is true or false/right or wrong; then we have chaos.

19th century French writer, de Tocqueville, after visiting in America in 1831, said, “I sought for the greatness of America in her commodious harbors…and it was not there. I sought for it in her rich mines, her institutions of higher learning…and it was not there. I looked for it in her democratic Congress and…matchless Constitution…and it was not there. Not until I went into the Churches of America and saw her pulpits aflame with righteousness did I understand the secret of America’s genius and power. America is great because America is good. And, if America ever ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.”

This is an important part of what it means to say, “In God We Trust”. It’s not just a slogan, a tip of the hat to the good ole boy upstairs, a hopeful expression that God will continue to favor us as a nation and shower us with blessings as individuals. It means that our lives are built upon faith and trust; on respect for each other based on a goodness that God has taught us, and upon the belief that the very future of our free society is in God’s hands.

On this Independence Day weekend we confess that our freedoms and our blessings as Americans are gifts from God. These are gifts that cannot be repaid—that’s the nature of a gift. But there is a debt of gratitude that our hearts recognize and that we willingly take on. “In God We Trust” also speaks of that debt.

God Bless America!

Every Blessing,
Chaplain Glen Krans

Last Thursday My Husband Died

Last Thursday my husband died.

If you’ve read many of my posts, you knew him as “The Dawg.” It was a nickname he loved.

During a medical visit on June 1st, we were told he had Stage 3B lung cancer. It was in both lungs and in the fluid around the lungs. We left the doctor’s office and went to a Waffle House for a late breakfast. He said one thing he did not want was to linger. He was not afraid of cancer; he was afraid of lingering. Even so, we all thought he had at least several months ahead of him.

He certainly didn’t linger; he lasted only 24 days after the diagnosis.

The Dawg – Carroll Smith – was an avid sports fan who played basketball and baseball but enjoyed all sports. He passed on what could have been a major league career because he felt it was his duty to serve his country in the military. He joined the Air Force, and, fortunately, was able to play baseball for the Air Force in Europe.

An 18-month-stay in the hospital with tuberculosis and subsequent arm injury dashed all hopes of a major league career, but his love of baseball only grew.

Following military service, Carroll went to work for the federal government; he retired from the Charleston Naval Shipyard as Employment Superintendent and Deputy Director of Industrial Relations with responsibility for over 8500 employees.

He was also a pigeon fancier. He started the hobby of breeding, raising, training and racing homing pigeons as a Boy Scout to earn a merit badge. Carroll continued this hobby until a few months ago and was known world-wide for his pigeons, selling them to people as far away as Taiwan. He visited the Queen of England’s pigeon loft and was friends with the Queen’s trainer.

Friends often referred to him as “the gentleman from Georgia.” He loved his birth state of Georgia and his adopted state, South Carolina, his home for 40 years. And he most definitely was a gentleman. He was one of the kindest, nicest and most genuine people I’ve ever known.

Carroll was a man of principles, integrity and loyalty. He could carry on a conversation with anyone because he was interested in people. He loved to learn - about people, places, history, events and more.

Together, we enjoyed working crosswords, playing games of trivia, going to movies, playing cards, worshiping together at our church and hanging out with friends.

I wish I had known him longer. We met casually in July 2006 but didn’t start seeing each other until sometime in 2007. Once we did, we were inseparable.

Until now.

Last Wednesday afternoon, evening and night, I slept with him in his hospital bed. Thursday morning, at 9:30, Carroll peacefully and gently slipped away, gripping my hand as I said “Peace be with you, Carroll.”

My head knows he is at peace, but my heart hurts just the same.