A Season for Laughter
Nancy Roberts Pannell
One Blessed Emu
The Sunday morning Bible Study group at First Baptist Church, Denton, was engaged in its usual opening prayer time. Prayer requests for various needs—many of them critical—were voiced. The department director listed each request on a chalkboard. And then we heard this request:
“Our friend's emu is in labor with her first egg. Would you pray that this mother emu will safely deliver her first egg?”
I glanced around the room. Perhaps I had misheard. All eyes were focused on our director, awaiting his response.
Now, I’ve prayed for a lot of things in my day. Some of them were pretty unorthodox. I remember the time our children’s dog, Mickey, ran away. I joined our then nine-year-old Kenny and five-year-old Carolyn in praying Mickey would find his way back home. To our enormous joy, Mickey did return, a bit hungry and scared, but safe. Don’t press me for any theological conclusions here. I’m just acknowledging that I’ve prayed for a variety of things. Years ago while teaching a church kindergarten class, I participated in prayers for everything from sick pets to requests for baby brothers and sisters. We prayed for goldfish, hamsters, bunny rabbits—you name it.
So why shouldn’t we pray for an emu in labor? It just caught me by surprise. Our department director was to be commended. With perfect poise and not the slightest hesitation, he added the emu to our prayer list. We prayed. I’m happy to report: Emu and egg did well.
Churchy Prayers
My minister husband, Zack, and I have observed that the funniest things often happen at church. Though I can’t know for sure, I suspect that God, the Creator of laughter, enjoys our Sunday bloopers. Without doubt, God can use them to remind us not to take ourselves so seriously.
God surely smiles at some of our prayers. Some people pray as if God is clueless about what’s going on.
The following prayer was offered up at the close of a Sunday morning service by one of the church staff. The prayer was amazingly specific, lest God might be unsure of the particulars: “Father, we want to remember the Building Committee members who will meet this afternoon in the South Hall in Room S109 at 2:00.” He continued, “Now, Lord, they will be making some important decisions, so help them to be of one mind.” That last request was asking for a real miracle—considering they were Baptists.
Weddings and Baptisms
Likely, the funniest things happen at weddings. The scene was a Baptist Church in a west Texas town. The bride’s family, long-time church members, had spared no expense for the elegant wedding. The church was packed with relatives and friends.
The bride had a slightly unusual last name—Legg. Apparently, the minister was singularly focused on her name. He came to the exchange of vows, and turning to the groom, he said, “Do you, Paul, take this woman whom you hold by the right leg…” Neither the bride nor the groom, nor anyone else for that matter, ever completely regained their composure.
It's not unusual for public speakers to misspeak, including pastors. A church member in Amarillo was named—truly—Roger Duck. At the close of a service, the pastor said, “We will now be led in a closing prayer by Brother Donald Duck.”
Not only weddings, but baptisms can turn funny, as did one at First Baptist, Muskogee, Oklahoma. Always, as the pastor would commence the actual baptism, he would say, “I baptize you, my brother (or my sister)…” On that Sunday, our pastor was baptizing seven-year-old Margie. Her little sister, Marcie, sat in the congregation, eagerly watching. When the pastor said, “Now I baptize you, my little sister…,” Marcie sprang from the pew and exclaimed, “That’s not HIS sister. That’s MY sister!”
Behind the Scenes
Church members would be amazed if they knew everything that happens “behind the scenes,” sometimes right before a worship service. Several years ago at our former church, First Baptist, Tulsa, Oklahoma, our Senior Pastor and his staff were preparing to walk into the church sanctuary for the morning service. The services of this large, metropolitan church were televised and reached a massive audience. As the assembled staff entered the sanctuary, an agitated woman rushed toward them from an outside entrance. She stopped the pastor and proclaimed, “The Lord told me to preach here today!”
The unflappable pastor, never at a loss for words, responded calmly. He looked at his watch and asked the woman, “Madam, when did the Lord speak to you?”
Surprised and flustered, she replied, “Uh…uh…this morning.”
“Well, madam, I’m sorry. The Lord spoke to me just a few minutes ago and said He had changed His mind. He wants me to go ahead with my sermon. Thank you, though, for your interest.”
The pastor left the lady puzzled but uncomplaining in the care of kind ushers.
Children and Church
Sometimes one simply has to laugh during church. It is time to laugh when you are sitting beside a squirming four-year-old through a long worship service. He drops a book or pencil for the seventeenth time. You glare at him and say, “Kenny, I am sick and tired of this!” He responds quickly, “I am, too, Mama. Let’s go home.”
It was time not to take myself seriously when we were at church and six-year-old Carolyn accidentally knocked off…well, God has the most capricious ways of humbling us. Neither I nor members at the First Baptist Church of Muskogee, Oklahoma, are likely to forget that particular Sunday morning—the morning I wore a wig to church.
That infamous Sunday Carolyn persuaded me to sit in the balcony with her. To Carolyn, ultimate joy was sitting in the balcony right by the rail. All went well until the closing prayer. Juggling a purse and a Bible, I leaned over Carolyn to help her with her coat. Her arm shot upward through a coat sleeve, caught the edge of my wig, and sent that wig sailing over the balcony rail, airborne like an unidentified flying varmint, to land unceremoniously on a startled worshiper. At such a time, one has a choice—to weep, to destroy a kid, or to laugh. I laughed hysterically all the way home, after setting a new track record out of the church.
During a deacon ordination service I was sitting next to our friend and her four-year-old son. The little boy watched with fascination. His daddy was among those being ordained. As older deacons placed their hands on the heads of those being ordained, the boy asked his mother, “Why are those men putting their hands on Daddy’s head?” His mother whispered softly, “That’s part of the service to become a deacon.” To which the child exclaimed, “Why does Daddy want to become a demon?”
Church Banquets
Disastrous things can happen at church banquets. The annual all church banquet at First Baptist, Tulsa, was perhaps the biggest social event on the church calendar. And it was Zack’s responsibility, as Minister of Religious Education, to plan and coordinate it. The church had a tradition of exceptional banquet themes. That year Zack and the banquet committee chose a western motif. Our Fellowship Hall was converted into an authentic western town of the 1800s. The church staff even rented western apparel to wear.
A record crowd had assembled, the food was served, and we were ready to eat, just waiting for the blessing. In keeping with the theme, Zack had enlisted a genuine old-timer, 87-year-old Cyrus, to lead the prayer. All Cyrus was to do was lead the prayer of thanksgiving for the meal.
On cue, the master of ceremonies escorted Cyrus to the microphone. Before a captive audience of 450 adults, Cyrus began what seemed to be a mini-sermon. He started in Genesis and moved methodically through the Old Testament, thanking God for all His mighty works. Many minutes later he was still wandering through the wilderness with the children of Israel. Zack began to sweat through his rented costume.
After fifteen minutes, Zack was signaling across the room to his master of ceremonies, “Cut, cut!” But the MC just shrugged helplessly and smiled a sick smile as if to say, “How do you take a microphone away from an 87-year-old?” At the twenty-minute mark, Cyrus reached Revelation, finishing his sermon, and said, “Now, let us pray.” Even his prayer was thorough, leaving nothing and no one unblessed.
At last, the meal was blessed! Cyrus was escorted back to his seat. Our food was cold, the ice in our tea was melted, and Zack and our salads were wilted.
That was only the beginning. As we dined, we listened to musical selections by our church men’s quartet, the guest speaker was introduced, and it appeared all would be well. Then a shout came from the back of the room: “Is there a doctor in the house? We need a doctor!”
On the floor lay one of our older saints. He had passed out and fallen out of his chair. Someone called an ambulance. Within minutes, uniformed emergency workers rushed in, blazing a trail through banquet tables with an assortment of equipment.
The banquet speaker stopped his speech. The emergency crew went to work. They hooked up an IV and recruited a young man to hold the IV bag. Someone suggested the quartet sing again until the crisis was resolved. The young man holding the IV bag, moving with the beat of the music, inched away from the patient on the floor. Suddenly the IV tube tightened, the patient screamed, the ambulance driver cursed. It was truly a moment of high drama at First Baptist Church.
Eventually, the patient was loaded onto a stretcher and hauled to the ambulance, and our speaker continued. It was a memorable evening. The elderly gentleman had only hyperventilated. He was in good shape. The banquet was the only casualty.
A Time to Laugh
In Ecclesiastes 3, the Bible says, To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heavens…there is a time to weep and a time to laugh. In the paraphrased Bible, The Message, the writer of Proverbs says, A cheerful disposition is good for your health, but gloom and doom leave you bone-tired!
Laughter, including laughter at church, is a good thing. As one of my minister friends has said, “Shared laughter is very close to grace!”
(After nearly fifty years of church ministry that stretched across Louisiana, Oklahoma, and Texas, Nancy Pannell and her husband, Zack, are now retired and reside in Denton, Texas. In 1985, Nancy resigned her public school teaching position of 25 years to pursue her interest in writing. Her two books, “Being a Minister’s Wife…and Being Yourself” and “Of Romance and Other Miscellany” are the basis for this article. Nancy is a conference leader and frequent speaker at women’s retreats and banquets. She and Zack have two adult children and four grandchildren. Nancy says her greatest joy is being with family.)