I stopped in at Clyde’s for lunch after church today, we both arrived at about the same time. He pulled into his parking spot just as I turned off the road.
We walked in together and found a table, the after church crowd was growing.
After we were settled in, and Rita had taken our orders, I asked Clyde how his service had been.
“Well, since it was raining I played hooky on the sunrise service that the Pentecostals hold every year up on the mountain, but the regular service at my church was very good.
“But ya know Bunkie, Easter always reminds me of the most perfect, and certainly the shortest, Easter sermon I ever heard.
“Some years ago I was a member at a small country church, you know, little white wooden building, even had a porch and some rockers out front.
“We had just taken in a new preacher. He was a young guy, not married yet, but he really impressed the board.”
“Yeah Clyde, I know the type. And the type of church.”
“Well, Easter morning was a bright and sunshiny, a perfect Spring morning. As the church began to fill
it soon became obvious that the preacher was going to be late.
“The head Deacon tried to stall for time by leading a few hymns, even went so far as to pass the collection plate.
“Then all eyes, (and ears), turned toward the door to see if they could determine what all the tire squealing out on the road was about. That squealing turned into the sound of gravel spraying from under spinning tires, then a car door slamming and fast running footsteps up the porch steps.
“Slam! The doors opened and in ran the new Preacher. He ran, sort of wild-like down the aisle and turned around just in front of the pulpit.”
“Jesus!” He yelled, “Is alive!!!”
“He turned and ran out the back door. That was the sermon.”
