And Where Does the Apple Fall?

For those of you without a sense of humor or a sense of irony, I strongly advise you to come back another time. This story is not politically correct. But, it is true and it embodies the connectivity of parent and child -- even with a wicked sense of humor.

You've been warned.



The Humane Society of Indianapolis sent out a plea last weekend. It was on twitter and facebook and sent to those of us on the email list. The food pantry was bare. Like food pantries that many people rely on to feed their families, this pantry helps families keep beloved pets fed.

I knew what I could do. And I knew my parents would help. So, on Sunday morning, my dad and I are loading my trunk with pet food before services. As we walked into church, he said, "Your mom and I can't stand the thought of an animal in need." We started talking about how the commercials with lonely/lost/hungry/abused animals make us crazy. And he said, "We just turn the channel. Can't stand it." I agreed. I'm johhny fast on the remote myself.

As we walked through the parking lot that led us to worship, my dad said, "Those commercials with the starving children don't bother me nearly as much."

At that moment, I knew the apple had not fallen far from the tree.

*********
Note from author: I beg of you friends. My father would put his life on the line for any child, any dog, any person. Please see the humor and know that I am not showcasing him in any other way.

Prayers

If you believe a certain religious sect, the Apocalypse begins tonight and those of us who consider ourselves believers will not be here tomorrow.

So, what am I doing to prepare myself for this great event? I am doing laundry, running errands and most importantly, writing prayers. I am liturgist tomorrow. I suspect my congregation of great friends and wonderful Christians will be in their normal seats in the pews.

The hardest part of being liturgist is writing the prayers. I know what I pray for and for whom. But you try to strike a balance between the generic and personal. You, at least I, try to say something that touches the soul... that makes someone think, "Yes, I pray for that too."

Whenever I remind myself that I am not worthy and I share this thought with my minister, he replies, "No, you are not. Do it anyway." What a gift!

The next time you are in a house of worship and someone says, "Let us Pray," remember that someone put some time and effort into crafting a community prayer. And, the greatest gift may be the ability to worship together.

Sunday School

With a nod and a thank you to my friend Jay Flora, I will tell you something he said in Sunday School this morning.

"I used to get up a little early to attend Sunday School, but I was really there for the worship service. Now, I get up early to go to Sunday School and I hang around for the worship service."

My apologies to Jay for the paraphrasing.
My parents dragged me, kicking and screaming, to Sunday School. Really? Don't I do enough? Don't I volunteer for every event? Don't I show up for most of the big stuff?
I went to my parents' Sunday School class and it was wonderful for a while. Then I sought out my own. My own age group, a different agenda, a different conversation.
I love my minister and I love worship. But like Jay, I embrace the intimacies of Sunday School. I think we really helped Karen and Terry last week (thanks to Lori) and I think we collectively hold each others hands and hearts.
Sunday School means I came for worship but right now, in this group, I'm here for you.