Today my good friend and erstwhile and still pastor Charlie Johnson is preaching at Second B. Yesterday, while worshiping at St Paul's Cathedral, something happened which reminded me of Charlie.
Irie and I attended the evensong service and set beneath the cupola of the great and glorious St Paul's done, which rises high and triumphant over the city of London. As the service began the organ thundered -- proving itself as king of instruments. As the prelude rose to a crescendo, there was the ringing of bells followed by the sight of priests, deacons, and stewards coming out from behind closed doors in a full regalia of white cassocks and red surplices. The congregation stood silent in anticipation. There was the waft of incense and the march of the crucifer followed by a train of all the others down the center aisle of the church. It was truly a high and holy moment in a high and holy place.
And then the priest stood to summon the people to worship and lo and behold the audio system went out -- completely. The priest went on but nobody beyond a few rows back could hear a thing. It was like he was just totally lip synching up there. For all I know he was.
I turned to Irie and whispered, "For all the pageantry, they still have the exact same problem we do back at home."
Which brings me to Charlie and something he used to remind us of all the time when he was Second B's pastor:
"This ain't heaven -- it's church."
So it is; and it is good.
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