they're not ready for us

In the fall of 1978, after about a year of traveling, we were called by an Episcopal church in Evansville, Indiana to present the Family Bible Jamboree! as the sermon during their Sunday morning service.  As we stood in the narthex, peering through the small windows into the large, ornate sanctuary of this English Gothic Revival-style church, my husband and I had a feeling of foreboding.  This congregation was the epitome of “smells and bells”, with its processions and incense and huge booming organ.  And here we were in our colorfully patched overalls, about to bound into this hallowed hall and sing and growl at the congregation. Our show was all very audience participatory.  David looked at me and said, “They’re not ready for us.” 

We had been in this church the previous spring and performed for the entire children’s Sunday school, so they should have known something of what to expect.  But it still felt like we were going to offend with our very low-brow presentation of Bible stories and scripture lessons.  The one consolation was that the kids from Sunday school were all sitting in the rows furthest front on the left.  At least we could play to them and not worry about the stoned-cold silence of the rest of the congregation.  Ever the optimist I said to David, “God’s in charge.”  Maybe we were  even there to thaw some of the “frozen chosen.”

From the moment we launched into our opening song (“The Lord loves you very much!  Keep in touch with the Lord!”), the adults were surprisingly engaged.  As we finished our almost 40-minute presentation we prepared to make a quick departure, just in case we had read the room wrong and they were about to stone us.  But the priest stopped us before we could leave and said, “Dave and Liz, we’ve prepared a surprise for you.”  Then the entire congregation stood up and sang that opening song back to us.  Not just the kids!  The whole congregation.  The children had learned the song, then taught it to their parents.  And we thought that they weren’t ready for us! 

It was a valuable lesson about trusting God that was repeated in nursing homes, hospitals and even a prison.  Whenever we thought that God had left us out to dry, he showed us how he had gone before us to prepare the way.  

Love, Liz