sometimes the dog eats the couch....

I just read on line that the Jonas brothers visited the White House to sing.

My problem is, I have no idea who the Jonas brothers are. Life is passing me by and leaving me behind in the dust....

Years and years ago, before some of you were born, Bern and I lived in Morgantown WV on the 3rd floor of this great house on a brick street. We were on the 3rd floor and had the attic at our disposal. That's where St. Gabrial's Mission--a house church--met. About 30 people, all under 30 except for Snork, the priest and Mariah who was 82 and just liked young people better than the 3 piece suits and ladies in hats at Trinity Parish.

We met on Wed. nights, up in the attic. If your birthday fell in that week, Snork let you celebrate communion--no kidding. He did what he called the "manual acts" and told us it was fine. We had no idea how against the rules it was. Five of the undergraduates at St. Gabe's went on to be priests, if you can believe it. Snork letting us celebrate is what hooked us.

(I have the sneaking suspicion that I've written about that before--if so, chalk it up to my slipping mind.)

At any rate, the people on the bottom floor had a big black lab names Bysshe, after Percy B. Shelly. Everyone we knew were students and had secondhand furniture. One day Bysshe's owners came home and the dog had eaten the couch. They were just about to kill him when they noticed that underneath the upholstry was a piece of furniture that looked older than they thought. It was an antique and worth $4000. They kept bringing home secondhand furniture hoping Bysshe would do it again, but he never did.

What I was pondering is what if the way God works sometimes is like the dog eating the couch--like something that is initially a problem verging on a disaster 'unconceals' God in the moment.

Or when something that is so outside the lines, at first glance--like Snork letting people celebrate communion--turns out to give the church 5 very good, out-side-the-line coloring priests.

Stuff like that. I guess we can't replicate such events--Bysshe never ate another piece of furniture after all--and if I invited people up to try out celebrating I'd be defrocked by days end because someone would turn me in. (I bet only Mariah knew Snork was breaking about 14 hundred canons, but she wasn't squealing.)

They can't be replicated, but maybe we should keep our eyes wide open all the time in case some metaphorical dog starts eating the couch. Take a deep breath and look for God....