Stay plugged in to keep the light shining....

I'll apologize ahead of time for the level of cheese, the sheer triteness, of this blog entry. But it was a good chuckle for worship yesterday.

Here's another worship secret. On the back of the pulpit there is a small, round light. The "on" button for this light is controlled by Judith, our organist. It alerts ministers to the actual ending of the prelude/choir selection to avoid that awkward, "Should I stand up or is there more to come," moment that I'm sure you can imagine.

Yesterday, all three of the ministers--we prefer jokes that allude to the Trinity as opposed to the Stooges--were up front, which inevitably leads to more chatting by the worship leaders than usual. I was lost in what I am sure was some sort of Holy Thought--not at all a moment of "I'm hungry--wonder what's for dinner"--when there was a lengthy pause after the organ stopped for the prelude. Ken whispers, "I guess I do the announcements?" and steps to the pulpit.

No light. No guide saying, "Yes, it's okay to stand up and speak." I'm sure he was filled with trepidation in starting without the light--the last time he did this, Judith was on "pause" between movements and missed playing the full Prelude.

Announcements/prayers/scripture/sermon/communion-later, we're back to Holy Thoughts again as the choir sings the morning's anthem and the offering is given.

An elbow-nudge interupts my contemplation of offerings: (should I offer Tom left-overs or Taco Bell?) "See that plug hanging there?" I stare into the darkness of the back of the pulpit--I see the three silver prongs hanging down from their dangling cord. "Bet that's supposed to be plugged in...."

And wham, every cheesy moral from forwarded emails or bad children's messages comes flying into my brain in one, concise thought:
You have to be plugged in to the source for the light to shine.

Too true, too true.

Shine on,
Jess