O Come, All Ye Faithful

Sometimes when I'm alone in the car, I like to sing to myself. Yes, aloud and full voice. So today, on my way to church, I was singing Christmas carols to myself. Actually, one Christmas carol in particular: O Come All Ye Faithful, which is one of my favorites (and which, coincidentally, just came on Pandora's "Classical Christmas" station as I began writing this post... bizarre). 

I ran over something that looked sharp, and I was concerned it might have damaged my tire. I listened, and it seemed to be fine. "Boy," I thought. "A flat tire on my way to church. That would be a bummer. What would I do?" and I thought about what I was would do, as I continued to sing and drive.

And then I started spinning out of control. I had hit some black ice. I heard the screeching from my brakes that I know and even knew I wasn't supposed to slam, but hey, when you are going somewhere very quickly that you know you shouldn't be, instincts say, "Hit the brakes!" I could see a car coming the other direction. I could see telephone poles, mailboxes, and snow banks. Expletives *may* have been uttered. I decided this was much worse than a flat tire.

And then I stopped. Went into a ditch, in a snow bank, several feet from a telephone pole. The car that was coming in the other direction, who had thankfully seen all of this, pulled over right near me and put on his hazards. I waved to show I was okay. He got out of the car and came over. 

That was the first "faithful" who came to me this morning.

He helped calm me down, made sure I was okay, offered to wait there with me until AAA came. Several (faithful?) people stopped by to make sure everyone was okay. We assured them it was. The nice man was on his way to a basketball tournament, but he said he could send the others in his car on ahead and wait with me. "Do you want me to call the sheriff?" he asked?

And at that moment, the sheriff drove up: the second "faithful" who came.

I called AAA. When they said it would be 45 minutes, I asked if they could put a rush on things, because I was a pastor and church started in 25 minutes. "Sure thing," she said. (Best $100 I have spent all year. Thanks AAA!) My basketball-playing friend went on to his game, but the sheriff let me sit in his warm car while we waited. He called some folks to make sure things were moving as quickly as possible.

Then AAA came. "O come, all ye faithful..."

While the good-natured AAA guy (who laughed at all my lame jokes) worked on getting my car out, my friend Jenny, also a pastor, drove by: another faithful. "You okay? You need a ride to Bethlehem?" ("O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem...") I said thanks, but I would also need to get to St. Martin after, so I needed to wait for my car. She made sure I was really, really okay, offered me her parents' extra car to use in case I needed it, and was on her way. I finally got ahold of someone at church and said, "Just sing some Christmas carols until I get there." (Later, the poor guy I talked to said he was so stunned he didn't know what to say!)

After my car was safely out, the exhaust pipe cleaned out, and damage investigated (just a little popped out bumper, nothing that a good kick won't fix... when I'm not wearing my church shoes), I was back on my way. Having spun out around 8:20, I arrived at Bethlehem just after 9am, in time to hear the congregation singing, "Once in Royal David's City."

For the children's sermon, I told them how when Mary heard she would carry God's son, she sang. Then I taught them how to sing, "O Come, All Ye Faithful."

Then I preached a sermon (see previous post) on how God comes to us in unlikely times and places. Like in a ditch on Atlantic Ave. What a God. O come, let us adore him.