The man behind the pulpit

I think by now it has been proven that I view the world differently than "normal." This little idiocrasies causes visiting churches to be very amusing at times, or maybe it was just the church.... Either way, it was an interesting Sunday morning.

We were late walking into the tiny church in the mountains of Tennessee. If it is a big church sometimes arriving late is to your advantage. I mean you can sneak into the back pew after everyone has greeted each other so your not awkwardly shaking people's hands. But when you enter a tiny church, it is NOT to your advantage to arrive late! Besides we didn't arrive late enough to miss the shaking everyone's hands. Let me back up for a moment.

Jamie and I stepped out of the car and headed towards the front door of a beautiful little church. As we walked across the small parking lot, an older gentleman (he had a goatee and gray hair, he kinda looked like Colonel Sanders from KFC) was hopping off of a motorcycle (even stranger!) who wished us a good morning. I grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open. It squeaked like crazy! Good thing there was another pair of doors in between us and the congregation. It was so silent, it looked like they might be praying. We began to enter the next pair of doors into utter silence. Not something you enjoy as a visitor arriving late. We tried to conspicuously take a seat in the last pew unnoticed. (We didn't succeed. EVERYONE noticed and the men up front had no problem pointing us out throughout the service as the "Two young ladies visiting." It was about as embarrassing as your parents showing off baby pictures to your boyfriend! Which is why I don't have a boyfriend.) Little did we know we had just entered the 1900's.

"To be a preacher requires two apparently contradictory qualities: confidence and humility."-Timothy Radcliffe

We apparently entered just in time for the prayer time. The piano began to play and several old men went to the altar and they all began to pray... at the same time... out loud. Let's just say the small headache I had at the time grew as my head began to spin. A skinny soft spoken man walked back up to the pulpit as the prayers died down. Strangely enough he asked if anyone had a song they would like to sing. I thought they would shout out a hymn number and everyone would sing but that is not what he meant. The pianist said she had a song and before she began to play and sing the man asked us to pray for her as she sang. By this time I wasn't sure what to expect anymore, as voices lifted up throughout the song shouting, "Praise Jesus" and "God bless her!" There was one strong voice in particular that carried throughout the entire church. Of course that really wasn't a surprise considering there was 20 people sitting in the pews, then again they all had gray hair and didn't look like they had that much voice inside them. For the life of me I could not figure out who was shouting their "Amens." The song came to a close and yet once again the man up front asked if someone else wanted to sing. A gentleman rose and came forward. Again, we were asked to pray for him, and again throughout the song that one strange voice bellowed out his "God bless his heart!" Honestly, I couldn't take it seriously. Everything in me had to work to not burst out laughing! I know, I know it sounds horrible but when not 1 but 2 camp preachers have said that "bless his heart" is the southern phrase for "he's an idiot" it becomes amusing to hear in church.

By this time I have deduced that the sound is coming from behind the pulpit. It wasn't the man who sat there and came up to give announcements. His voice was different. Plus, his mouth wasn't moving! I figured there was someone else sitting beside him but he was invisible from my seat. It honestly was like the Wizard from Oz. A big booming voice burst from behind the pulpit. No one knew who he really was but he was there and he was a strong presence. Ok, so my imaginative mind got a little carried away but didn't I warn you in the beginning that I didn't view things as "normal" as everyone else?

It didn't take long for the metaphorical curtain to rise and give way to the mysterious man, up stood Colonel Sanders. His booming voice was not just for hollering out blessings and prayers but also to deliver a fierce and thought provoking message. I can't describe the way he preached except for saying that it sounded a lot like I had gone back in time and been dropped down in the middle of a tent revival with a circuit rider preaching. He had a thick southern accent that projected throughout the auditorium as he quoted scripture and then gave it a hearty "AMEN!" At one point he said he needed to give himself an "amen" so he walked all the way to the back of the church and gave shouted "Amen preacher!" and then walked back to the pulpit.  Our adventure into a 1900's revival service ended with a traditional invitation and sneaky cell phone photo. Minutes later we were shaking hands and smiling as people urged us to come back and we walked out the two wooden doors.

So was the tale of the man behind the pulpit...