A Time to Laugh 2
October 26, 2003
Dear Friends,
Last week we began what we hope to be a reoccurring column entitled A Time to Laugh. The stories began to pour in. I hope to get onto more serious things next week, but I just couldn’t resist one more installment.
While doing the readings with my wife last year in Mark 9 and it was my turn to read at verse 7 – “And there was a cloud that overshadowed them: and a voice came out of the cloud, saying,” at this point a let out a great loud burp. To which we both fell about laughing. (Wayne Marshall, United Kingdom)
A number of years ago, the Toronto Ecclesias put on a series of Lectures with the theme “THE GOOD NEWS ABOUT THE BIBLE”. Then several subjects were rolled out under that banner. The Good News about: 1. the Kingdom, 2. Jesus, 3. Salvation etc. My subject was about the devil and when the newspaper ad came out promoting the lecture it read: THE GOOD NEWS ABOUT THE DEVIL, HE’S HUMAN: MR. ALAN HUSSEY Needless to say, I was the butt of many a devil joke from then on. (Al Hussey, Canada)
Here’s a Garfield story for you: As many older believers remember, the Garfield meeting used to be all in Italian, and later half Italian and half English, and now is all English. Back when the meeting was half Italian and half English, the following humorous incident happened. The Italian hymn book was translated from our own hymn book, except for a few that were exclusively Italian. And just like many of our hymns are to the tune of secular music, so were the few Italian hymns in the Italian hymn book. One of those hymns, which was a very beautiful Italian hymn, was to the tune of “How dry I am”. It is customary in Garfield, during the memorial service to play the organ in a quiet tone to set the mood. One Sunday an older Italian brother was playing the organ. During the memorial service, he played this popular Italian hymn. All the Italians were hearing this beautiful hymn. But the visitors that happened to be there that Sunday, were hearing “How dry I am” as the wine was passed to them. (Andy DeLorenzo, Vermont, USA)
The first time I ever presided at a sizable interecclesial gathering. I was a young brother, about 25, and I had the task of giving a welcome and an introduction to the classes that would follow, and presiding at the opening class period. After much hustle and bustle, we were all ready to go; it was 9 am on a Saturday morning, and there were about 100 or so in attendance. I had
my carefully prepared program and notes for my comments and introduction. Everything was set — except for one thing. The speaker for the first class was late. And so we waited — which didn’t help my nerves at all! Finally, after 10 or 15 minutes, the speaker arrived. Car trouble and a
wrong turn (this was a new campsite, and unfamiliar to some — so understandable). But, now another delay. The speaker had a very large, very tall chart that needed to be affixed to the wall behind the speaker’s podium. This was done with the help of a couple of tall brothers, standing on chairs, and using a lot of masking tape while the increasingly restless audience continued to wait. So finally, after what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only about 20 minutes), we were ready to start. By now, I had been mentally reviewing my carefully prepared notes — realizing that I should cut them, due to the time constraints. So I was trying to do this in my mind, as I strode to the podium. “Good morning, brothers and sisters,” I began — when suddenly the whole wall chart collapsed, from the top down. It remained affixed to the wall at the bottom, but slowly the top portion collapsed forward until it had completely covered me and the podium where I stood. It was as thought the lights had gone out! There were a few gasps and giggles. And there I stood. What was the prescribed method for dealing with this? I stood there sort of hoping that everyone would decide, on their own, to get up and leave. I waited a bit, but I heard no movement. I peeked around the edge of the chart, which was still laying across me and the podium. No, everyone was still there — probably waiting to see what the next “act” was going to be. Now what? I finally decided that I couldn’t just remain there, hiding under the chart. So I gathered together all my notes, stooped down, and slid sideways like a crab, out from under the chart, until I was free and clear. “Brothers and sisters, we now call upon brother ______” and then I made a hasty retreat for a chair. (George Booker, Texas, USA)
Keep the stories coming in!
Have a great week!
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