If I were a preacher, this Sunday's sermon would have been about faith.
I live in the South. In the bible belt. In a place where the frequency of your actual Sunday attendance may not matter so much, but you damn well better be able to roll the name of your church off the end of your tongue when asked. And you will be asked. Hell, I've been asked in a job interview.
So, in the face of all this religiosity - why don't you have faith? I'm not talking about big, scary faith: mountain-moving, risk-taking, societal warrior kind of faith. I'm talking about Pot Luck.
We had a pot luck dinner scheduled last week following our quarterly staff meeting. Pot luck - the staple of church fellowships and tupperware parties for the past couple of centuries. And yet, people began to freak out. "What are you going to bring?" "I don't know if I should bring potatoes or dessert?" "Meat! Who's going to bring meat?"
Finally things deteriorated to the point where people were clamoring for a list! A list so they could sign up for what to bring!
Shocking, isn't it? These are all, every one of 'em, church-going people. Have any of them ever witnessed a pot luck dinner that didn't work out? No, of course not. Pot luck is one of the most concrete proofs of the existence of the divine - it never fails. Who says God doesn't perform miracles any more? The loaves and fishes were a pot luck success if I ever saw one! Have some faith, people!
Naturally our dinner worked out. Plenty of loaves. Plenty of fishes. Several baskets of left-overs. So that would have been my Sunday sermon. Stirring stuff, eh? This guy spoke at our church on Sunday. Appropriately enough, it was about the loaves and fishes. He didn't mention pot luck, though. Too bad.