We had a good crowd at worship on Sunday. Unfortunately, we had no air conditioning. The Session approved plans to replace the ancient duct work under the sanctuary earlier in the week but when the a/c units heard the news and wanted to help, the motors blew out. One blew out bearings, the other just began grinding. With temperatures in the 90's, a few box fans and some funeral home wavers were all the cool available.
I've been preaching for enough years to know how to pivot for changes in worship. I think it's difficult to throw me off when babies cry, people cry, fights break out, bulletins are wrong, organists get sick, bees infest the sanctuary, birds fly around the ceilings, trains blow by, truckers honk horns, electricity fails, etc. No problem. I can pivot and adjust.
Sisters and Brothers in the Lord, I can't deal with heat. It's too bad that my spoiled United States self gets distracted by swelter. I confess that I'm a whiney snort about dripping through worship. Sorry.
When the congregation realized jackets needed to be taken off and folded on the pews, fans were necessary for survival and that the preacher was not wearing vestments, they were kind. Seemed like a good time to preach a homily based on the sermon rather than the full 14 minutes.
Shorten the sermon? Oh yeah. Problem time. I did a lousy job of summarizing my sermon.
Like many preachers, I "let down" to process the morning sermon late Sunday evening. By bedtime, I've confessed to God that I am not a great preacher, am hardly worthy to approach a pulpit and should just go flip burgers for the rest of my life. I hear phrases of my sermon in my head and stomp around beating myself up.
I assume this criticism is part of the process. By Monday, I'm ready to being working on another sermon.
Not this week. Monday was a horror re-hash of Sunday. ALL DAY LONG.
I'm not proud of myself for this, I'm just sorry that in my ineptitude, I lost the ability to clearly convey the Good News because I was HOT.
Small town workers will finish the repair work in three weeks (3 weeks, urgh!) if everything goes well and Sammy doesn't go down to the Coast to shrimp for a week with his brother and if J.D. doesn't have to go over by his Mama's to help his sister-in-law move into the new trailer.
By the way, any of you out there want to guest preach at the church for the next three Sundays?
St. "Too Hot" Casserole