Don't Say

Spider

One great thing about pulpit ministry is that you never know what's going to happen as you step up to the platform. Despite the reputed boredom of congregations, it is a rare sermon that doesn't illicit any response and I rarely feel that the time has been completely wasted.

But even if the spiritual side of things can be a let-down on occasions, there are a whole variety of possible excitements to make ministry interesting.

Last night it was a spider.

There on the lectern was a scampering spider which proceeded around at a pace without ever looking likely to head off the edge and go somewhere more convenient. It was a small spider. I figured, 'I'll leave it and it'll go away'.

It didn't go away. It seemed perfectly content to do a circuit of the Bible, order of service sheet, hymn book and sermon folder. That was all this pesky spider wanted.

Ah well, I could just leave it there. Then I realised that the first song had almost passed me by as I watched the spider and there was no way I was going to concentrate with this thing running around.

At least, I thought in sexist mode, the people doing the reading and prayer tonight are both men so there shouldn't be any shrieks! But how are they supposed to concentrate if I can't. The spider has to go.

Providentially I had gone for three songs together at the start, so there was still time. Of course the congregation couldn't be expected to worship if I was flaying around trying to crush a nifty insect so I decided for a cool, calculated response. When it runs on a book I'll pick up the book and drop the spider surreptitiously to the floor. The spider, with alarming wisdom, started to take a liking to the lectern and avoided running on any book, but disappearing behind them before re-emerging - grinning, I assume.

The singing was not great. I'd chosen something many people didn't know. This was especially good because it bought me extra time as we went back to verse one. Then it happened! The creature walked onto the hymn book (presumably also not knowing the song!) and, bingo, I could pick up the book, look the part of a Pastor, yet also dispose of the animal.

I picked up the book. I pulled back from the lectern. The spider headed rapidly north and jumped. Back onto the lectern. The song continued exploring the grace of God as I contemplated murderous thoughts far removed from the beatific St Francis of Assissi, known for his love of animals and all nature.

The song was getting near the end! I put down the hymn book, moved the Bible to encourage the spider back on, and it worked. I picked up the hymn book again, whipping it away quickly this time.

But the spider didn't jump. Instead it nestled in by No. 965 and used its God-given capacity for hanging on. I'd had enough. I shook the book. The spider hung on. I held it upside down and shook it. The spider remained.

As the last line of the song died away I held the book vertically behind the lectern and scraped the spider to the floor.

We should never assume that we can see who is really in control of a worship service . . . .

Lilleshall

This week dozens of Sports Chaplains met at the National Sports Centre, Lilleshall. This is annually a truly inspirational conference with some great insights into the world of sport and faith.

For example we heard about one English Football Club where, after the Manager's team talk the players are offered the chance to go to another quiet room for prayer which includes meditating on a verse of the Bible.

So, of the 11 players plus substitutes, how many - in deeply secular 21st century Europe -might be found in the prayer room?

Up to ten.

Or to put it another way; a rather higher proportion that most churches manage at their prayer meetings!

Now if they were at FC Barcelona, they'd even have a proper chapel . . .