Last weekend a friend reminded me of the following story. I say “friend,” but the reality is that friends don’t remind friends of dark and tragic times in their lives, and do so while laughing. After a couple of years of shock therapy, I’d almost put this incident out of my mind…

This post won’t be pretty. The squeamish should look away. And if you’re a neatnik Pharisaical type, just go ahead and start polishing your rifle, because you’re going to need it in 3…2…

As Campus Pastor at the Summit, one of my roles is to lead our congregation through the act of communion. Usually when I do that, I’ll grab my wafer and cup of grape juice (Southern Baptist wine) during our pre-service run through and set it somewhere on stage so it’s easily accessible when I get up there.

Yesterday, Pastor J.D. was about 3/4 of the way through the message when I realized I hadn’t set the elements out as normal. Since I would be leading into communion directly out of the sermon, there would be no chance to grab them before heading onstage. So I pulled out my phone and texted* our 9:00 backstage manager, the talented Nick Nohling. A few minutes later I received this reply:

“There are no cups in the green room but I have improvised. I found some red Sobe Lifewater and a cup. Hopefully that works for you.”

Oh, it gets worse. Much, much worse. Read the entire post here.

Advertisements