Old timers and old friends

Church compatriots never really disappear, we just saunter off stage to return in a later act.

Take our mutual friend's 100th birthday for example. I don't care how well you know someone, if you get invited to a 100th birthday party, you're going to show up. I mean, how many people does a person meet that attains that sort of mileage? Folks should seize that opportunity because it isn't likely to come along too often.

Attendance was not hurt by the fact that this man is quite the delightful fellow. He gave up life without a hearing aid and driving just this year. He's been plopped in his pew pretty much every Sunday he could. A fun man to visit with, and a good man in a pinch.

Naturally, folks came from all over to celebrate. His doctor was there. Friends that have not attended our church in many years. All to say hello to this fellow. I approve, clearly.

Then of course, there is our annual retreat out by Anacortes. While not officially "The place to be", it very much has a reunion feel about it. If there's one event where we see everyone, that retreat is it. Moreso than Easter, outdoing Christmas; folks gather and flock to stay in breezy cabins and rememeber days gone by around campfires.

You can leave. You can go to another church. But I think folks are just fine in caring for those they've known before.

Gettin' comfy a year later

I have now been attending 2 churches for about a year.

Either I'm becoming quite comfy in my newer church, or my AV background allows me to be obnoxious in the middle of a church service.

One of the female pastors was sharing a bit about a recent missionary trip before she started preaching, and at the beginning she had a little issue with the volume and assumed it would be resolved. It wasn't.

I was about four rows back and I could hear her just fine. Still, I've learned that what I consider perfectly audible, others consider too dang quiet. Five minutes progressed, she showed slides, and her mission trip was discussed rather nicely. As she pulled open her bible to start preaching, I leaned forward slighty, and with my "announcement voice" told her

"You might want to grab a handheld mic because we can't hear you."

She fumbled a bit with her battery pack, one of the techs started talking to her, and eventually she got her switch moved from "standby" to "on".

I'd like to think I didn't embarass her, but I saw no reason to draw attention to it afterwards. I rationalized that if anyone was going to want to hear something, they would want to hear the sermon. And if someone was going to talk back in church, why not me? (Charismatic, we ain't.)

So derive from this two lessons: I have absolutely no problem looking like a jerk in church. I'll mention technical/format issues during your sermon time any day of the week. (Most likely Sunday, I'd assume.) Also, just use handheld mics. With cords. Lapel mics are pure evil.