Out of My Mind-Back by Closing Hymn

I love going to church. My favorite time is not the singing (although I do love the robust and rousing Fanny Crosby hymns, partially because they are straight out of my childhood and partially because I get to snicker at my husband. His very Lutheran musical tastes <read that: Bach, big organs, and more Bach> claim that the hymns I adore make him feel as if the congregation has just stepped onto a giant Merry-go-round. It delights me so that God brought us together. We can have a theological debate over the price of butter.) Nor is my favorite time the time of greeting when we wander about the congregation, seeking people with hands to be shaken and peace to be shared, and then once safely back in the pews, quietly put on disinfectant to avoid one of the Holy Plagues.

Nope, my favorite part is . . .

the sermon. Not everyone shares my sentiments, but I really mean this. Not only am I guaranteed to learn something (I have a wonderful pastor), but I’m certain to mentally take a lovely stroll through a variety of cerebral valleys and glens, only to eventually emerge back on the same plateau of thought with everyone else.

Here’s how it works.

Pastor:  Paul was lowered over the side of the city wall in a basket.

Me:        Wow. That must have been some basket. I don’t have a basket anywhere NEAR strong enough for that. Grant you I have one that holds about 50 pounds of onions…which, come to think of it is almost empty…I wonder if Paul ate onions?… I’d better get to the store this week…but I really hate shopping…although they’ve installed that little café mocha   dispenser now… I just wish it wasn’t in the refrigerated foods section—waaay too cold…I suppose I could wear my winter coat…I wonder if Paul ever wore a winter coat? What’s winter even like in Jerusalem? I wonder if…wait…what is that sound…I hear music…why is everybody standing…oh..it’s the closing hymn. Time to rise Carol.

I’ve heard there are people who have linear thoughts. Supposedly, these folks start a thought, think about it, and then complete it. They can focus intently on a 90-minute lecture regarding the historical derivatives of the word hermeneutics while never losing their train of thought. They actually have a train. I have more of a hot air balloon. I’m just as interested as getting to my location as the folks on the train, but I’m blown about a wee bit by the wind, meandering here and there, seeing things that weren’t on the agenda, but nonetheless are still quite lovely. So in church, while others stay steadfastly aware of exactly what is being said, my mind will take a comment by the pastor and gently blow off the linear path to regions unanticipated, and often lovely.

I might contemplate if Mary and Martha ever worried about the environmental impact of the cleaning solutions they used.

I might ponder if Sarah ever had to tell little Isaac to stop picking his nose.

I’ve even thought that perhaps the Garden of Eden’s greatest appeal was that before the fall, there was no laundry. Think of the extra hours each week that this gave Eve to contemplate weightier philosophical issues…to take up a hobby…to get her hair done. I’ve actually designed a laundry room banner proudly sporting Genesis 2:25 that I am convinced would be a huge seller to laundry-doing moms everywhere.

Then were naked, and they felt no shame

Yet another tragic consequence of the fall.

If I’m being honest with myself, I will admit I’m jealous of these linear thinkers. Although, I’m not completely sure if such people actually exist or… are instead are just mythical creatures like Big Foot or Amish telemarketers. Does everyone, even those who claim to have a train, actually secretly live in a hot air balloon? Are the pews full of people like me, looking intently at the pastor while wondering Noah was obligated to bring two fleas aboard the ark?

I live in fear that my Pastor may one day adopt the practices of my 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Beakman. And exactly what is this device of evil used by cruel speakers through the ages? When the listener least expects it . . . they ask questions.

On any given Sunday, my mind will wander off the sermon, just the tiniest bit, and is now thinking about the back of that woman’s head, and why she let her roots grow so long and if the root plants in my garden are ready to be pulled since it looks like snow and I really should stop and pick up a new shovel and … “Carol,”…the pastor says cheerily, “Could you tell us why you believe the Apostle Paul was so quick to judge the church in Ephesus?”


Blink Blink.

I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with roots. And my other usually safe fallback of always answering “Jesus” wasn’t going to work here either. Man! Where do I get one of those linear thought patterns?

So far I’ve been lucky. My pastor has continued with the traditional model of preaching as a single participant event, not a team sport. That’s good because. . .I’ve never been good at sports. . .although I once thought I’d like gymnastics. . .till I saw that Olympic girl bend herself in half backwards. . .which I’m thinking causes spinal cord damage. She looked like a pretzel. . .we haven’t pretzels in a long time. . .maybe I should get some next time I’m in. . . <watch the balloon drift away>



Filed under Uncategorized

16 responses to “Out of My Mind-Back by Closing Hymn

  1. Glad to hear that I’m not the only one who suffers from a wandering mind during the sermon. Your thoughts remind me of my mother….I’m always amazed by where she picks up a conversation and then wonders why I’m confused. : )

  2. Jane Carter

    Thank you for letting me float in your balloon for a moment. SO enjoyed the trip!

  3. Kris in Hobart, WA

    Love it! We are very alike…during our sermons I have my notebook with me and will take notes. Well, threre are a few words in there – but mostly drawings and doodles that are sermon related…related in a way that we would understand but most would say we weren’t paying attention!

  4. Lexie Smith

    Oh Carol you really ARE me! It was during a Bible study class that it occured to me that God didn’t give Adam & Eve children untill after they made Him really mad. I think He did it so we would know how He feels when He asks us why we have messed something up and we say “I don’t know”…….

  5. Dawn

    Blink blink blink was me Sunday evening during the service. The pastor had noticed me making notes in my Bible Sunday morning, so he assumed I would remember what he had talked about and actually asked me about one of the points in his morning sermon. Huh? blink blink. If I could remember, would I be writing notes in my Bible? Seriously! Glad I’m not alone in the hot-air balloon! We could have a flotilla of balloons! Or maybe an Armada? I wonder if pastors during the Inquisition questioned people about sermons? Did they use bamboo shoots? Can you eat bamboo shoots? What am I going to cook for supper?

  6. Denise Bender

    Ok….you all are truly in a hot air balloon that has floated ya’ll into tomorrow, before tomorrow has arrived (at least not in the U.S.A. yet)! Yes, this is where my balloon has taken me in reading this post and comments. How come everyone’s time and date is tomorrow?! Have I again lost a full day? Where’s my calendar? Am I missing someone’s birthday? Birthday cake ~ yummy! Blessings, Denise

    • My bad. This has something to do with how my account was set up. Someone did it for me and I’m not certain how to correct the dates. But after a certain time of day (unknown to me) the digital calendar shifts forward to the next day. I suppose it is the next day somewhere, perhaps New Zealand? I’ll keep working on it.

  7. Naomi

    We have a delightfully small congregation where conversational sermons are the norm. My husband is the pastor of our church. He knows that I frequently take off for parts unknown during his sermon and that if asked a question I will take everyone else on my little trip. He has stopped asking me. Instead I take all of the kids out and teach a childrens’ lesson.
    Last week we had a lesson on condensation and why words written on deflated balloons almost disappear when the balloon is blown up and on the 10 lepers and why pumpkin pie reminds us to say thank you and that we can say thank you to God and others.
    I think the kids were still with me by the end. My three could tell me the biblical content and life application of the story, but then they have lived with me long enough to know when to get in their hot air balloons and when to come back.

  8. Church is where I discovered just how distractable I could be. If I’m not taking very detailed notes on the sermon to keep my train on the track, my brain will jump in the hot air balloon because of the way the sun is coming through the shades, or the fact that while praying I opened my eyes for a split second and noticed the split end in my hair, =O…and Wednesday night Bible study is very question and answer based and made even harder with my highly distractable son sitting next to me. Buts its during these Bible studies when he (age 8) all of a sudden pops up with an answer to one of the questions just when I least expected it, that I realize there really is hope. Thanks for sharing again, Carol.

  9. I am totally a space cadet at church. :/ I blame it on my imaginative brain. I can totally follow along when the pastor is telling stories and personal anecdotes. I listen to the stories and then I find myself singing worship again. I’ve heard it blamed on tv and the computer. We’re too used to constant stimulation changes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s