This past week, I admitted to the Pastor I didn't know what "Pentecost" meant.
Is that really my fault? Isn't that some great failure of "the Church" - I've been going all my life!
So fast-forward to the Pastor's sermon this weekend. He was guest-preaching in Dallas. (Hello, Galleria! Hello Melting Pot! Hello Renaissance Hotel!)
The Pastor (who you will recall is also a Professor) starts off his sermon with a delightful anecdote about how he was "teaching" last week and one of his "students" didn't know the meaning of Pentecost. Yes, I was his stupid student.
As delighted as I was to actually find a place in his sermon as that has been such a rarity, this isn't what I had in mind.
He can make fun of me all he wants for not knowing about Pentecost, but then he went on during his sermon to include countless references to "Independence Day." What? It's no wonder I still don't learn anything at church. I spent the rest of the sermon not listening, willing the Pastor to look at me so I could mouth the words "MEMORIAL DAY" to him. Me, the stupid student, at least knows that it's MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND which means the swimming pools open and it's ok to wear white shoes again (but I also know from "What Not to Wear" that it's ok to wear white shoes as appropriate throughout the year, just never white jeans).
I did learn about Pentecost. Pentecost = Birthday, and if anyone knows what Birthday means, it's me.