What's So Funny Up There?
The Reverend Thomas C. Willadsen
Worship is not a performance, I hold a strong conviction that worship is literally, "liturgy," that is "the work of the people." One way we at the First Presbyterian Church of Oshkosh, Wisconsin, express that reality is each week we have a lay reader who presides at specific parts of the service. The lay reader sits beside the preacher. While worship is not a performance, it is public. Just about every week something happens behind the scenes that only those leading worship are aware of. The show goes on. It is only church, but sometimes these gaffes are hilarious or poignant. I treasure these glimpses of humanity and frequently whisper observations to the lay reader.
Sometimes after the benediction someone will ask, "What was so funny up there?" Here's what:
One morning Bill, the tallest member of the congregation, was the lay reader. As he sat down on the upholstered lay reader chair he said, "I can't be the only one who complains about these chairs!"
"You are Bill. It's uncomfortable because you're so tall."
"You know, the tall are the only group it's acceptable to discriminate against anymore."
I look up at him and say, "I'll take your word for it." Bill is close to a foot taller than I.
The prelude ends and I walk forward to give the announcements.
Six months later Bill is the lay reader again. As soon as we sit down, I whisper, in high dudgeon, "These chairs suck!"
We collapse in giggles.
Each Christmas Eve, Chuck a local morning drive DJ, is the lay reader. Sometimes I put his skills to use in a special reading. Last year I found such a reading and we rehearsed it a few times the week before worship. Then I decided to change "a wind from God" [Genesis 1:2, NRSV] to "a God-awful wind." I heard this rendering years ago and prefer it. I forgot to tell Chuck about the change.
Right before worship, when we were in the Green Room, Chuck asked, "Is there anything special I should know about tonight?" I told him "Yeah, the goat cheese I had at a party is making me a little gassy."
After the benediction he said, "God awful wind indeed, padre!"
I am grateful he did not ad lib that during the reading.
The last time Paul was the lay reader I learned he is also something of a hypochondriac. As we were singing the closing hymn, "How Great Thou Art," he whispered to me, "I am having a stroke!" He looked fine to me; his speech was distinct. Then I realized he was singing the transliterated Korean lyrics, which appear above the English ones in the hymnal. When I pointed this out, he sighed with relief and sang along.
Once when I was preaching in an unfamiliar church, the service ground to a halt. I leaned to the lay reader and hissed, "New Testament lesson!"
She pointed to the bulletin. A hymn precedes the lesson at this church, and the preacher announces the hymns. It was only funny because the hymn I had to announce was "Open My Eyes That I May See."
The first time Karen was lay reader, she noticed that there is a small waste basket in the pulpit.
"Tom, why is there a wastebasket up here?"
"It'll be obvious after today's sermon."
My favorite "What's so funny up there" incident took place during my first month at this church. I have gotten into the habit of putting my sermon manuscript in the pulpit first thing when I arrive at church. Otherwise I get distracted, set it down, and lose it. This Sunday Sharon was the lay reader. After the Old Testament lesson, she returned to her seat and found she had a lot of paper. She looked at what she had brought back from the pulpit and realized she had boosted my text by mistake. She handed it to me, and whispered an apology.
I looked at it and said, "What the hell is this?"
When you're clergy, a well-timed vulgarity is hysterical. Honest. I could not make eye contact with her the rest of the morning without erupting into giggles.
The last time I preached at my home church it was something of a homecoming. I was in town for my grandmother's ninetieth birthday party. My cousins who I had not seen for fifteen years were in the congregation. Of course I preached on the Prodigal Son. What preacher does not have a Luke 15 sermon he can pull out of the barrel? It was a significant day for my brother, he was the morning's lay reader, and he presided at the installation of new church officers. Al took me out to breakfast before the service because that was the only time all weekend we could have some time to talk.
Things went fine until he finished the second reading. As he was returning to his seat and I was walking into the pulpit I whispered, "Next time we go out to breakfast before I preach here...talk me out of the breakfast burrito!"
This one was a pay back. A few years before he had been worshipping in the church I serve on New Years Day. The crew needed another elder to pass the plates for communion and he was deputized. As we concluded the sacrament he was the last one to hand me his tray of juice cups. He pretended to drop it at the last minute. This is a funny thing to do on any occasion, but for him, my older brother, a guy who loves the order and regimentation of being a certified public accountant, to do this to his younger brother, who has spent his whole life using humor to keep harmony, this was hysterical! I giggled for the rest of the service.
He is scheduled to do another funny thing in 2012.
I cannot wait.
This column first appeared in The Cresset, published by Valparaiso University, Trinity 2008.