I've had my eyes opened this morning.
We were all gathered together in one place in the Moot House, for the holding-of-hands ceremony prior to the Pentecost Extravaganza. I'm not so keen on the holding-of-hands - ensure everyone uses antibacterial soap before and after - but it does amuse me the way it makes the more uneasy-with-their-feminine-side squirm.
Then there was the rushing of a mighty wind, and tongues of fire appeared. It was all thanks to Young Keith and his industrial wind-machine. Turns out it goes up to "11". Blew four panels out of the Moot House wall and shorted the circuits. At which point the electronic dove cage failed safe and all the doves flew out through the roof lights to safety.
Of course, we'd shut the sluice to make the brook rise, and the Beaker People were standing in half an inch of water when the electrics went on the fritz. Everyone's hair stood on end (except Burton's, who is follicularly challenged) and remained so until the whole circuit tripped.
I walked out of the wreckage of the Moot House and across to the Room of Viewing. I find when things go spectacularly wrong, a bit of telly can calm me down. But saw the news from Syria. And then considered that the celebration of Eurovisual harmony and humanity on telly yesterday - nearly everyone singing American English, like a latter-day Pentecost - was broadcast from a country with a dreadful record on democracy and treatment of its people. Figured the tame Holy Spirit we'd be hoping to encounter isn't the angry hurricane the world actually needs, who lifts up the weak and blows away the powerful.
Walked back outside and the doves have messed all over the 4x4s in the car park. I think maybe it's a sign.
This shall be categorized under a very crowded category called "seemed
ReplyDeleteIike a good idea at the time." I am reminded of my stint as organist at a huge RC church in Denver (that's in America). The liturgist thought up a fantastic Ash Wednesday activity. We were to write what we were giving up for Lent on these papers, pass them forward and Father Burt was to burn them ceremoniously in the little hibachi grill she'd put on the altar. Apparently, xerographic paper has a coating on it that is toxic when burned. Who knew? Fire department, news crews, paramedics, it was a memorable Ash Wednesday indeed! And another one gets filed under "seemed like a good idea at the time". But this is about you, not me...I digress.
I am always wary about stunts in church, ever since the attempt to emulate the world famous 'dance into church wedding video' went wrong.
ReplyDeleteBeing an ancient church, with a wooden floor built over the stone base. The joists under the floor were unfortunately, not treated that well, in fact, even the Arch Deacon's visitations, which normally pry into everything, missed the dry rot in the joists.
Come the day for the wedding rehearsal, the Vicar (not a light figure) danced heavy footed up the aisle, followed by the not so delicate curate. As they approached the chancel, the was an almighty crack, and the vicar was literally swallowed up by the floor.
Now, being an imaginative type, I immediately pictured that Devil chap, knowing the blasphemy of the Vicar's dance, had realised he was condemned and had reached up and grabbed him.
While it lasted only milliseconds, it was a most wonderful vision - being that the Vicar for all of his humour, could be an autocrat and insist on having his way in all.
However, the screams of pain emitting from the 'large' hole that he left, shattered the illusion and we realised that he had done some severe damage to the church, and collateral damage to himself. And the wedding was only two days away!!
After a great deal of laughter and levity at his expense, the Vicar was rescued and luckily only had bumps and bruises, a twisted ankle and an a foul sense of loss of dignity.
Emergency repairs were effected and come the wedding day, we did it as a Pirate theme, rather than dance theme. The Wedding couple walking the plank across the hole to the Chancel and back again. It made for great interest and our village bookie had run a book on someone falling in again - he lost out, but I made a killing from it.
So, now, I always look for the edge when I see the Vicar trying something new, and are prepared to be amused.
Wonderful story, UKViewer! Weddings always bring out the disasters. Being an organist, I lost count after 200 weddings played. And they are a constant source of story-fodder for me. I'm glad to hear it is universally true! Great story and told really well.
DeleteWell thanks both for coming up with funnier stories than I can, and what is more calling on "real life" to do so :)
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