Chapter 6: Nervous Service
Jana shuddered at a little man with a
farmer’s tan line across his forehead and a $50 toupee and led her small
entourage to the only pew left in the church, directly beneath the new
preacher’s nose. She pulled the iPod headset from Leo’s ears and begged Ariel to
put her nail file away. They shuffled in, saving one space for Grandpa, who was
parking the Buick.
“How come we have to sit in the front row?”
complained Dewey, in a voice well above a whisper.
Jana clenched her teeth into a smile. “Because
we’re late and these are the only seats left.”
“How come these are the only seats left?”
Leo leaned over to Dewey. “Because everybody
goes to church on Christmas. It’s tradition.”
“What’s tradition?”
Leo looked around, then leaned in again.
“It’s something you always do because you’ve always done it before whether
anyone knows why you’re doing it or not.”
The bell choir finished their rendition of
“Oh, Holy Night” and the student pastor began three pages of announcements
about who gave the memorials for the radio service, who died that year and who
still owed on their pledges. Dewey stood on the pew and turned to look for
Grandpa in the back of the church. “How come we’re late?”
Jana pulled him down. “Because your Uncle
Monty was on the phone talking business when we should have been leaving.”
“How come he made a business call on
Christmas Eve?”
Jana was determined not to let him get her
riled up in front of the fifteen blue haired Sunday School teachers who had
known her since she was three - all who happened to be staring directly at them
at this very moment. “That’s one you can ask him yourself, Dewey.”
The readings, the children’s sermon and the
hymns were all beautiful and went on without incident. Jana forgot herself for
a moment and actually enjoyed fifteen minutes of peace. She faltered when the
children’s choir sang “Away in a Manger.” Mother had always loved it when the
little ones sang. Mrs. Boone, an elderly friend of her mother, leaned over and
handed her a lace hanky embroidered with golden angels. Jana fumbled through
her own purse for a tissue, unable and unwilling to blow her nose on angels.
Grandpa didn’t show up until the pastor
entered the pulpit to read the Christmas Gospel. He sneered to see the only
space open was next to Dewey, then waddled in to sit with tightly-folded arms
and nose in the air.
“And in that region there were shepherds out
in the fields keeping watch over their flocks by night,” the preacher began in
a soothing bass voice. “And an angel of the Lord appeared and the glory of the
Lord shone round and they were filled with fear. The angel said to them, ‘Do
not be afraid, for behold, I bring you wondrous news of joy to all the people
for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, Christ the Lord. And
this will be a sign to you, you’ll find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes
and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of
heavenly hosts praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest and peace
on earth to those with whom God is well pleased.’”
Jana glanced at Dewey. The boy was transfixed
by the words. It was if he had heard them the first time. Perhaps he had.
“Peace on earth?” she sighed to herself. “Peace on earth.”
“We will now take our Christmas offering as
the choir sings a new song written especially for our worship this day,” the
pastor said.
Grandpa reached reluctantly for his wallet.
“Great. I’m late parking the car and I still make it in time for the offering.
Once more around the lot and I would have missed it.”
Roy nudged his father. “How come they’re doing
the offering before the sermon at church now?”
“Have you ever heard this guy preach?”
“No,”
Grandpa smiled. “If they waited until after
the sermon, no one would give a cent.”
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