Since Pastor Teddy started televising his sermons following The Lockdown, our family has been faithfully gathering in front of the TV each Sunday morning at 9:30 am. There have been video glitches and mikes that cut in and out at inopportune times, and a time the screen froze for a few minutes and we shouted at the screen “Teddy, you’re taking the pause-for-dramatic-effect too far!”. Through it all, it’s been a welcome “normalness” in our otherwise un-normal lives to hear a sermon from our favorite pastor. We sing along as music director Vince strums his guitar or plays the keyboard, the words on a screen behind him, projected onto our screen in the family room.
We only have two requirements during these times: you are expected to be showered and dressed before Teddy starts talking. And you need to be in the family room with us.
We have a Sunday shower schedule: I’m in by 6. Ryan is next, getting in at 6:45. Joe’s turn is at 7:30 and Ernie finishes it off, having to be showered and downstairs by 9 on a typical Sunday and 9:30 during the quarantine.
Last Sunday, the boys and I were all downstairs in our places watching the timer counting down on the church’s YouTube feed when Ernie arrived. We all stared at him. There we were in jean, sweatshirts, Tees and tennis shoes, and there he was in dress-shirt and slacks, his Sunday shoes, and a tie. Under his arm was his 20-pound bible with concordance. He stared back at us.
“I’m here for church,” He announced, “and I’m going to dress like it!”
In my defense, I held up my bible, indicating that I was there for church too, regardless of my attire. As the timer ticked to zero, and Teddy walked up to the podium, Ernie sat down in his recliner, spread his bible open across his knees and prepared himself for enlightenment. Rory, our dog, yawned. He was clearly unimpressed. Simon the cat rolled over in Joe’s lap and went to sleep.
That Sunday, Teddy was pleased to announce church would be opening back up. After 62 days of lock-down and 9 Sundays missed, the church doors would open for service again on May 17. We were elated!
Easter and Pentecost had both passed without festival this year. Our oldest son Chris’ 26th birthday had come and gone, as well as Mother’s Day, and our 28th wedding anniversary. All had passed with the barest of celebration and fanfare. But tomorrow, the church will be opened again. A significant corner has been turned.
When Noah finally stepped off the ark, the first thing he did was offer a sacrifice to God in thanksgiving and honor. He sacrificed the best he had to offer, and God was pleased.
Our church was not allowed to hold an Easter Sunday celebration, but tomorrow we will be celebrating a Resurrection Day. We will be celebrating new life breathed back into our sanctuary, and that is something to give thanks for indeed. Bring on the Sacrifice. It’s time to give him our best.
“Boys!” I called up the stairwell. “Get your shoes on! We’re going shopping!”
We are here for church. We are here to celebrate this new life. We are here for our Resurrection Day.
And kids, we are going to dress like it.
The Reluctant Firefly 