Case in point: There I was, one unseasonably warm Autumn day in the bus loop, admiring a colleague as she approached me with her super-sparkly bedazzled shirt. "You look like one of those shimmery-bright twinkly vampires from Twilight," I raved. I was not prepared when she pulled up short and glared at me. "I prefer the radiant light of Christ," she snapped. I was stunned. It was like taking a pan-full of ice cold Holy Water to the face. Well...yeah. Me too. Shimmery vampire in one hand/Jesus in the other? I'm going for my Lord and Savior every time...but still...a compliment is a compliment. Well, no sense dwelling...
Until...
There I was, keeping scrupulous sermon notes in my journal last Sunday when the topic turned to Revelation 3:20. Jesus is knocking at the door but cannot gain admission unless He is invited. I was suddenly startled into alertness. Wait. A vampire cannot gain entry into a home unless invited! Interesting. There are some other comparisons as well. Blood, for instance. Blood of the Lamb. I vant to suck your blood. Immortality. If you ignore the eternal damnation part and the fact that one is a fictional literary character, then you see that I am clearly onto something! Seated next to the pastor's wife, I began to establish my case after church during the potluck dinner housed in the basement. Shuddering as though she'd taken a stake to the heart, she glanced surreptitiously around the room as she tried to shush me. "That sort of talk could get you excommunicated," she whispered. "I'm not saying that Jesus was a vampire," I tried clarifying, "but...." Desperate, she tried changing the subject. "Have you tried the soup?" she cheerfully asked the table. "It was a bit garlic-y for me," smiled my daughter, Sydney, winking at me. I grinned. "This basement could really use some renovations," I commented, to the relief of our pastor's wife. "With its low ceiling and lack of natural light, it's kind of like a coffin down here."
No comments:
Post a Comment