Once upon a time I was at a church that had four pastors. One a Sunday morning, the senior pastor was greeting parishioners at the door as they left church after the morning service. Busily shaking hands and conversing a woman approached, took his hand and said "Don't you remember me? You visited me in the hospital." The pastor blurted out "Oh, I didn't recognize you with your clothes on!"
The last congregation of my ministry had an annual lutefisk dinner. It was a huge deal serving 100s. When diners arrived they were given a number and waited their turn upstairs until their number was called to go downstairs to the dining room for dinner. While they waited they sat in the sanctuary where a band was playing. In the library an artist was demonstrating rosemaling painting. At a table in the narthex pickled herring was on sale.
My role was general host, meeting and greeting, ushering and helping out where needed. Much of the time I was at the front door to meet guests and direct them as appropriate. While at the door one night I greeted a woman whom I knew, though she was not a member of the congregation. She seemed unsettled so I asked if she was okay. She replied, "Oh, I'm really frazzled. My husband just died an hour ago." Perhaps she just didn't want the tickets, purchased in advance, to go to waste.
Takk for alt,
Al
Joanne with her friend, Niki, at a lutefisk dinner. Niki was trying lutefisk for the first time. Joanne loved lutefisk but I'm not allowed to eat it.
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