son of a preacher man
I had a dream that was actually pretty hilarious. I dreamt that I was the janitor of a small-town Catholic church, and for some reason one day I had to deliver a huge lecture/sermon about the lessons of Jesus.
In theory it wasn't very hard--I just had to press play on a video about Jesus, hand around some snacks and drinks, and make the occasional wise comment during pauses in the video.
But for some reason anti-religious forces were at loose in the town and there were rumours that the "preacher" would be assassinated on the sidewalk before the sermon. So I kept pacing around nervously and cursing my luck.
When it was time to delived the speech, mostly to a crowd of elderly French-Canadian women, middle-aged Haitians and some lonely teenagers, I was reminded that I had to deliver it in French. I kept thinking of various truisms and platitudes about the live of Jesus but things started going wrong. The video kept pausing and my helpers kept calling out complaints about the snacks. "More Juice in Aisle 3! No, no, they don't like sweets!"
And then I kept rambling short and noncommittal religious platitudes in a mix of French and English, excusing myself every few minutes to go try to find someone in the other room, or to pace around in the backroom and sweat about the assassin's bullet.
Altogether it was not a very impressive sermon..
And now I have this song in my head: The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man
In theory it wasn't very hard--I just had to press play on a video about Jesus, hand around some snacks and drinks, and make the occasional wise comment during pauses in the video.
But for some reason anti-religious forces were at loose in the town and there were rumours that the "preacher" would be assassinated on the sidewalk before the sermon. So I kept pacing around nervously and cursing my luck.
When it was time to delived the speech, mostly to a crowd of elderly French-Canadian women, middle-aged Haitians and some lonely teenagers, I was reminded that I had to deliver it in French. I kept thinking of various truisms and platitudes about the live of Jesus but things started going wrong. The video kept pausing and my helpers kept calling out complaints about the snacks. "More Juice in Aisle 3! No, no, they don't like sweets!"
And then I kept rambling short and noncommittal religious platitudes in a mix of French and English, excusing myself every few minutes to go try to find someone in the other room, or to pace around in the backroom and sweat about the assassin's bullet.
Altogether it was not a very impressive sermon..
And now I have this song in my head: The only one who could ever reach me
Was the son of a preacher man