This past Sunday, Pentecost Sunday, was my fourth anniversary at Suburban Presbyterian Church.
It was a beautiful service, and always is every year. We have a huge round communion table that the flower guild fills with red, orange and yellow candles—twenty-five or thirty of them, at various heights, on a lovely red tablecloth. The effect is quite dramatic. We also turn all the chairs to face the exterior windows, to represent our call as the church, to be focused outward.
My colleague had offered several weeks ago to put together a liturgical dance. I suggested instead a dramatic reading of scripture but told her that whatever she wanted to do would be fine. Last Thursday, three days before the service, she let me know that she had not had time to put anything together. I was a little disappointed at the timing—if she had let me know a week earlier I might have been able to pull something together myself.
Luckily ChaplainMom came to the rescue with an idea that needs no rehearsal or special preparation. My colleague seemed skeptical when I explained it to her, but it worked beautifully. During the reading of Acts 2, at the verse when the tongues of fire rest on the people, the reader paused and several people (mainly children and youth) lightly tossed about half a dozen streamers of red, orange and yellow crepe paper across the heads of the congregation, while the bells did some free-ringing. People figured out quickly that they were to receive the streamers and toss them in a different direction, forming a web of sorts. Happy chaos ensued. Lots of smiles. Thanks CM! I do love ministering in a congregation that is willing to try most anything.
Then at the end of the service, my colleague was praying after the offering right before the closing hymn when a woman close to the front of the meeting house yelled “Fire! Fire!”
I thought, “Oh my goodness, is this is a skit? Or is she testifying?”
I opened my eyes and saw. The communion table was on fire.
One of the tapers had burned down and, aided by a well-placed air conditioning vent, had ignited the red tablecloth—a sheer billowy thing that, in retrospect, was basically fancy, festive kindling.
My first (selfish) thought: “Thank God it wasn’t the streamers. Though as this story morphs over the years, it probably will be told that way.” (And it didn’t take years; by the second service people were asking, “You’re going to do the streamers again even though they caught the table on fire?” Sigh. Northern Virginia, where even the rumors run at the speed of light.)
Several of us sprang up and stood stupidly around the table for several seconds. I think we were all trying to figure out how to smother the fire, but the only thing available was the Amazing Flammable Cloth of Doom. So I’m sure to onlookers, a proper caption would be, “Well I’ll be damned. The table’s on fire. Who’s got marshmallows?”
Finally my colleague yelled, “The baptismal font!” Which someone promptly brought forward. So in an absurd clash of symbols, the waters of baptism actually extinguished the fires of the Spirit.
My favorite part was after the fire was completely out and the table was assessed to be just fine, when my colleague proceeded to continue with her prayer for several more sentences. I admired her desire to Continue As Planned, but I wanted to walk up and pat her hand and say, “Honey, I’m sure you worked hard writing this, but the prayer is over.”
I always try to pray before worship, “God, let something happen here that isn’t in the bulletin.” Moral of the story: If you pray this, have a fire extinguisher handy.
30 Responses to “pentecost: one for the books”
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Asides
» I have been remiss in posting SBJ’s latest stats: 23 pounds and 27 inches at six months. Yes, I’ve got the big mama biceps.
» Aaaaaand little she-who-is lost another tooth this week!
» SBJ is four months old, 19 pounds 5 ounces, and 26 inches tall. GIGANTOR!
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Now, *that’s* a good story.
Oh dear! Oh my….makes you long for ordinary time!!
OK, missing your sermon for Rolling Thunder…maybe a bad choice…this seems like an event I shouldn’t have missed!
What a wonderful story.
Erm…you know, after the fire was out and all.
“Amazing Flammable Cloth of Doom” love. it.
The streamers were wonderful! It was nice to see everyone smile.
A beautiful service all in all. Happy 4th anniversary!
Can’t…stop…laughing!! Well told, RM, well told!!
When I was a kid, the church had a huge advent wreath that was suspended from the high ceiling. One Sunday, the candles burned down and lit that baby up…..It was scary and impressive all at once.
Then there was the Easter that the guy holding the Bible during the Gospell procession collapsed with an intracranial bleed…..no liturgical dance/drama has ever come close to my having to do CPR during Easter service and having the guy come back, as a portrayal of the lesson at hand. (I didn’t go to church the following Christmas for fear I’d have to deliver a baby during the service.)
Oh that is classic. My favorite story was when I was a kid who lived in Texas’ “Jerusalem on the Brazos” city. We had candles on the ends of the pews (in candle holders of course) that we lit on Christmas Eve. We also had a whole lot of older women with big blue hair (remember– Texas in the early 1980’s). One of the women’s hair caught on fire from too much Aqua Net. It was quickly put out, not too much damage done, but quite a sight for this Preacher’s Kid. But alas, I did not learn my lesson at that tender age. I, too, still use a whole lot of hair products. But to my defense, that tendency is basically in the water here in Flat and Dry, Tx…
I always try to pray before worship, “God, let something happen here that isn’t in the bulletin.” Moral of the story: If you pray this, have a fire extinguisher handy.
Especially at Pentecost.
Oh my! Holy Spirit move indeed! So, what new life will be kindled by that fired?
Zowee! If I had known you were so close and there would be that much excitement, I’d have come to your church for Pentecost!
All I can say is wow.
Nobody will ever forget it.
My (way less dramatic) story: I passed out trick b-day candles (the kind that won’t blow out), a book of matches (to light candle), and a communion shot glass of water (to extinguish candle) to several people planted throughout the congregation who were to light their candles as I told the Pentecost story to the children.
New visitor (connected with church through Faith on Tap) came in and was happy to volunteer when I asked if he’d like to be a “Tongue of Fire.” As I handed him the little glass of water, he said, “So I drink the grain and light the match?”
YIKES.
Here’s a guy willing to light his tongue on fire for the LORD (and/or me). With the “grain alcohol” I was providing. A champ.
LOL Sherry! As one who could very well have given birth during an Advent service two years ago I can relate.
I have to admit I couldn’t resist ad-libbing before the benediction, “Would you all please be seated for a second sermon which explains this prophecy we have just received from the Lord.”
Maybe he just hated the tablecloth.
So in an absurd clash of symbols, the waters of baptism actually extinguished the fires of the Spirit.
I think this may be the funniest thing I’ve read in days. What a great story!
Oh, God! This is one of the funniest stories, EVER.
HAAA hahahaha!
you know, I usually pray that same prayer. Obviously I have not been praying it hard enough, because there are many times when a fire in our sanctuary would be the biggest blessing ever. Can we have your tablecloth of doom?
wonderful, wonderful story
laughing so much
what a pentecost - send your fire indeed
I love the streamers idea. grateful that the fire went out, even if by the waters of baptism (what a strange image that is…).
this is hilarious!
Wow… that’s a story I’ll just have to remember and get out again somehow during a future Pentecost sermon - if it’s alright with you?
Ha! Of course!
As an ex-Quaker, turned ex-Pentecostal, turned Quaker again (for the time being anyways…) your story has an interesting underlying meaning…
Bess
Now THAT was great - one symbol helping rope in another… what a picture. And that’s got to get into your memoirs. Too bad teh Clooney wasn’t there too…
d
Sounds like its time to move to those artificial candles with the oil lamps in the middle.
the lyrics to the Billy Joel song “we didn’t start the fire” happened into my head as I read the story….
Hysterical! And if I hadn’t read it here, I would seriously doubt the veracity of this story. It’s just too good to be true!