Peacetrain5’s Weblog

If you’ve attended church for any period of time, then you’ve certainly had the opportunity to participate in a revival.  These affairs usually last anywhere from a weekend to a full week.  They consist of repeated efforts to compel individuals to surrender to the Christian experience.  Night after night the message is resounded with enough guilt thrown in for a lifetime of misery.  Each night the same people listen intently nodding in approval that they are not as bad as those others who aren’t present this very evening.  God will get them and we all will be so much better for it.  Amen.

These revivals usually include an evangelist who brings his traveling show from week to week to the ever faithful.  These men are some of the most arrogant, pompous people who tell of their sordid past and perfect present.  Their stories perfected after years of telling to get just the desired emotional effect.  Pastors who bring these men into their churches usually give wide berth to the evangelist as many freedoms are needed for the event to work.  Lesser staff members (like me) find their roles changed to gopher status and the requests tend to the extreme.  Any failure to grant a vapid desire results in a breakdown where the Spirit of God will be withheld.  Who knew how much trouble could result from not putting enough cream in a cup of coffee.

I served a church that took great pride in their annual revivial.  The anticpation was felt for months prior to its inception.  Everything seemed to dovetail into making this years revivial even better than last years.  Imagine how many people will be touched if we just make sure everything is perfect was the unified battle cry. 

I must remind the few readers of my blog that my youth was filled with misadventures and mischievous actions designed just to make me smile. As I aged my maturity didn’t advance proportionally.

The evangelist arrived complete with his camper trailer and I was chosen to help him get the setup arraigned behind the church.  Seemed like I had reserved a wonderful place for the camper but my location just wouldn’t do.  Back and forth moved the camper until just the right spot was found.  I experienced similar adventures watching my dog pace back and forth across the yard looking for just the right place to pee.

He immediately determined I was available to take care of his every whim.  While working as a minister one has many opportunities to be of service, unfortunately,  I lacked the important gene that allowed me comfort as others used and manipulated me.  It didn’t take long to realize this man of God who was going to straighten out our church was a complete  ass.  My salvation experience was relatively new and I didn’t suffer an ass with much kindness nor generosity.

I knew quickly this man needed to be brought down a notch or two and I was just the man to help him.  I would minister to this man in a way he hasn’t experienced at any time in his career, after all,  I was a servant.

Our church had an early version of a wireless microphone that the on/off control was managed in the sound booth.  Somehow,  I was chosen to run the sound during the evening revival service.  Miracles come shaped in all forms.  Just before the service was to begin the evangelist wanted to do a sound check.  Wouldn’t you know it, I seemed to do everything wrong.  Surely the Spirit couldn’t work in a situation like this I was reminded.  After what seemed like an eternal browbeating, the sound was just right for an evening of worship.  And then it happened.

Inside the sanctuary were  a smattering of enthusiasts.  Early arrivers whose mission is to make sure everything is handled properly.  In total, maybe 15-20 people watched as the evangelist excused himself to prepare for the events later that evening.  His problem was, his preparation involved a challenged effort upon a porcelain throne that was broadcast with full color to all who desired.  Shame on me for not immediately extinguishing the microphone, shame on me for allowing everyone to know the vigor he brought to the challenge, shame on me for finding the moment so (excuse the pun) stinking funny.  But to quote Velma Kelly and Roxy Hart…”He had it coming.”

As the evangelist strode into the sanctuary, impressed with his recent achievements, the look of confusion that peviously had been found on the congregants faces, was quickly erased.  People began putting together the cause of the mini concert, along with the fact he had on the microphone and suddenly people found themselve trying to suppress their giggles.  These attempts proved a fruitless endeavour as laughter rang forth across the room.

I allowed the evil grin to remain on my face the rest of the evening.  I even enjoyed the mini conversations taking place in the pews all around me.  Word was out and the evil grin I carried morphed into a silly grin on the people in the church.  I guess it became hard to take someone too seriously who shares such intimate parts of their person as he had unknowingly done.  The revival somehow ended sooner than expected and the evangelist informed us he would leave the next afternoon.  I feel my actions may have led to the demise of our church’s revival that year, maybe so.  But revenge can be sooooooo sweet!

As a final note, I should confess that I gathered some of my trouble making college kids and visited the evangelist for the purpose of giving him a proper good-bye.  I wish I could say I went to him and made amends, I chose not to.  Instead, we approached his camper in the early morning hours, a time when proper people chose to sleep, to prepare for a final act of insubordination.  As the firecrackers were exploding outside his camper, we hid to watch the festivities.  He was not an attractive man at that hour, especilly under those conditions.  The comb-over that was so perfectly coiffed the night before spiraled in long strands to one side of his head.  He  seemed quite angry and agitated by the fireworks show we chose for him.  Talk about ingratitude.  “I’m going to kick some a**”, came roaring out of his sanctified mouth to all who would listen.  As we merrily ran away we heard these fateful words, “I’m never coming back to this church again.” 

I smiled and felt like my work was done.

Have you ever encountered an individual who was so obtuse, so obnoxious, and so demeaning that each time encountered a feeling of physical discomfort arose? 

Every time I was in this gentleman’s presence he found reason to dismiss my mere existence.  He made me feel small and insignificant.  My opinions were minimized and made to obliterate any sense of self-worth I may have possessed.  He would rally those around to join in his parade of humiliation.  He created a cadre of of yesmen laughing in concert at his continued exploitation.

Some background.  He was a pastor of a large church and considered a wonderful Godly man by those in his church.  He was recognized as a mantle of truth bringing lifechanging hope to the masses.  To me he was nothing short of a bully.  He was not a bully by stature he was a bully by status.  I thought he was a punk.

Each week my church held an open gym for the local clergy to play basketball.  I considered myself an above average basketball player having played a couple of years in college.  I was the lowest staff member on a multi-staff church and as such subject to much grunt work and minimization of my value.  When I approached my pastor about this hazing he told me to suck it up and act like a man.  In my youth when my manhood was questioned my ability to rise up and succeed increased.  This time was to be no different.

Each week this pastor would pick me out and find ways to administer cheap shots and talk poorly about my skills.  To someone not far removed from his pagan roots these were actions that previously led to a fight.  But as a brainwashed servant right out of seminary trying to find his place in the world, instead I kept myself in check.  I imagined this ongoing period of testing would conclude if I just acted with class and kept my composure while showing respect where it certainly wasn’t earned.

Damn if this guy wouldn’t relent.  Week after week he continued with his harassment.  I prayed and prayed for relief and yet somehow this pastor avoided hearing God ask him to knock it off.  I had to regularly deal with this guy and I was stuck.

Inspiration comes to us in strange ways and at strange times.  It’s often difficult to determine the source of such wisdom and even more challenging to act upon this given direction.  I can’t say for sure it was God who told me to do what I did, realistically it was probably derived from a wayward portion of my youth. 

This one day the pastor was just too aggressive with me.  He hit me in the mouth with his elbow and seemed to look at me with contempt instead of sorrow.  I began feeling my anger rise and my body began to shake.  I knew if I punched this pastor my job would end before he left the building.  With no recourse available I just left and said nothing.

I waited in the locker room considering my options.  As I sat there it occurred to me what I should do and nothing was going to stop this from happening.  I quickly showered and went across the hall and hid in a classroom.  I knew these basketball games had a pre-determined ending so I waited.  My mission was now in front of me. 

I watched the pastor as he entered the locker room.  He was the last the enter so I allowed him to get into the shower then my time for revenge was to begin.  I quietly slipped into the locker room and removed his clothes, all the towels, washcloths, and paper towels.  Game on preacherboy!

I took all my found booty and hid it in a nearby room then retreated to my office at the other end of the church.  The gym area was at the far end of the church and allowed no access to the rest of the building without marching down a well lit hallway.  Preacherboy had a real problem.  He was left to stand in all the glory that God had blessed him at his birth.  His newfound shortcoming (excuse the pun) left him with very few options.  Who’s laughing now?  I failed to mention that the church employed two female housekeepers at that time.  This to me was an added bonus.

I went to work in my office thinking preacherboy had been down there now for over 30 minutes.  By now he had plenty of time to study himself (another senseless pun) and his behavior towards me.  I had to make a decision soon as this event was rapidly reaching a point of no return.  My decision was made…leave the ****hole to rot down there.  I smiled feeling somewhat vindicated.

Then my phone rang…It was one of the housekeepers saying these was a man screaming out of the locker room for me.  Busted!  I handled it like a true man of honor.  I told the housekeeper that the music minister hid preacherboys clothes in the classroom by the locker room.  I sat at my desk grinning like an idiot when I soon heard stomping coming down the office hallway.  I heard something about my ass and a reference about my mother.  What a mouth on this preacher.  Oh crap! he is yelling for me to come out and face the music.  So once again bolstered by a boost of adrenaline I…I hid under my desk.

After what seemed like forever he finally agreed to leave.  I heard my pastor and staff try to calm him down and tell him they will deal with me.  Oh well I thought “this had been a good job while I had it.” 

I then heard my pastor and the staff enter the office.  I’m now instructed to come out.  I reluctenly crawl out to see huge grins on each face.  They tell me they are proud of me and what I did was the funniest thing they’ve seen happen in church.  Relief fills my heart.  I’m now one of the guys.

People would be suprised at what happens behind the hallowed doors of the church.  It reminds us all that each one of us faces the same trials and temptations no matter how perfect they appear on Sunday morning.  Church is full of imperfect individuals even it’s leaders.  There is no need to hide behind your imperfections either.  Come join us as we celebrate the life of wacky humanity.  Just the way God made it.  Rejoice!  We are all honorary members of  humanity’s wack pack.

And yes, preacherboy stopped his taunts and found a new person which to prove his toughness.  Clay feet and all.