So. My dad read a sermon the other day.
No, not in the sense you’re probably thinking – that he read the riot act. I am married, with children, in my own home.
But our church’s pastor was gone these past two weeks, teaching a course in Grand Rapids. Last week we had guest ministers; this week none were available and church elders had to read sermons.
This ranks right up there with parents who are teachers for opportunities for embarrassment (my wife’s parents are both teachers, so I know – somewhat – of what I speak).
First there was the shushing of the organist, as he started playing, thinking my dad was finished with one section when he paused for about 10 seconds between bits.
Then somehow, mysteriously, my father mispronounced Deuteronomy – twice. He’s smart and well-read, but must have had a slight attack of nerves. A few other bobbles rounded out the entertainment for the morning.
He actually did a pretty good job, over all, after settling down. But it sure was rocky for a while.