The church I serve
has a summer ministry at a chapel. At our first service last summer, the
chairman of the board of deacons met me at the door with the information that
there were no offering plates to be found. None of the men wore hats, and he
thought it undignified to pass a shoe. He had tried to borrow something
suitable from a house nearby, but no one was home. When I went to the chancel
to begin the service, the problem was still unsolved.
Time came for the
offering, and two ushers walked down the aisle wearing broad grins and carrying
shiny receptacles. The deacon had resourcefully borrowed two hubcaps from a
lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic school for lunch. At the head of the table was a
large pile of apples. The nun made a note: “Take only one, God is
Moving through the
line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies.
A boy wrote a note: “Take all you want, God’s watching the apples.”
you spell ‘water’ for me?” The teacher asked.
“H I J K L M N
0,” answered Sally promptly.
Her teacher look
puzzled. “That doesn’t spell “water.”
does,” said Sally. “My daddy’s a scientist and he says water is H to