| Sunny Side Up July 9, 2003 � 2003, Kathleen Gibson Oh my, Christian soldiers We held our annual church picnic last Sunday, immediately after worship service. A BBQ first, then games in the front churchyard. Curious neighbours strolled by to see what was happening at the usually quiet church on the corner. It was almost over when the real fun began. The sequence of events went something like this (though the details may be a bit jumbled): The president of our mission society splashed water on our Sunday School superintendent. On purpose. He splashed back. It could have ended there, except a few others got involved and innocent bystanders got wet. Me, for one. I happened to be holding a squeeze-bottle of water. It seemed logical to aim it directly at the perpetrator, fire, and run. (I should point out that I was not alone in reciprocating. Other victims, holding arms of various types, did the same.) The perp had hold of a much larger weapon-a green juice jug, I seem to recall. Waving it in my direction, he made great haste and followed. Weaving between the skirmishes waging all round us, I defended myself valiantly. To no avail. Considering his superior weaponry, I decided to flee the scene. Leaving the rest of the Christian soldiers to fight at the front, I retreated. Rapidly. Sought sanctuary inside the church. Green Jug followed. Earlier that morning I'd dressed for church-not for battle. Had I the gift of what some consider to be prophecy, I'd have worn my Nikes. I darted through the carpeted foyer and exited out the back doors onto the paved parking lot. Partway across it, hearing my pursuer close behind, I turned to fire my weapon, hoping for a frontal shot. Instead, I tripped on my floppy black sandals. My knee hit the ground first, then my head, then my hand, which tightened on my weapon, causing it to discharge a volley of ammunition-directly into my own face. Helpless, I looked skyward to see my opponent-a respected member of our church board-bending over me, struggling to look appropriately horrified. He offered his hand and lifted me to my feet. I wasn't much hurt, just wet and a bit muddy. And my fall had bloodied one knee. Three days later, the scab on my knee is nearly ready to fall off, but I'm still laughing. Things happened in such a rush. One minute, there we all were, enjoying dignified fun and fellowship, and in the twinkling of an eye everything went to pot-or jug or bottle or can, as the case may be. Some people think Christians have no fun. But I'll tell you a secret. Scriptures caution Jesus' followers not to be drunk with wine, but instead to be filled with the Holy Spirit. I think that was because God knows we don't need the alcohol to loosen up. You have no idea what happens when you get a bunch of peaceful, Spirit-filled Christians tipsy on fellowship. Well, I guess you do now. You can respond to these words at [email protected] |
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