Blind Faith

It’s not that I don’t like church; it’s that I enjoy entertaining my brain and sometimes that means a little game of Sudoku in the third hour of service. Fortunately I sit with the right people on the back row and they came prepared. This is also good as they like to make clever remarks in an outside-voice whisper. If they are involved in a game it limits their whispering.

Another thing that helps? A power outage. A blonde girl stood in front of the pulpit harmonizing gracefully with the piano. As she held her last note the lights hesitated slightly before the blackout. A hesitation her voice mimicked before fading out and the last few notes on the piano clanging in discord.

Like a bad actor the lights faked death a few times giving us false hope. Of course in the back row we hoped for an early out. Our final speaker did not. He’d prepared to deliver an inspirational message and perhaps the darkened room gave impact. A hush fell on the crowd. Not immediately—at first you could hear snickers and whispering which led to laughter as someone provided an LED flashlight keychain for our speaker to use.

I thought he would use it in campfire fashion, below his chin casting eerie shadows on his face. He’s more practical and used the light to read quotes and scripture. I tried to focus, which should have been easier since I couldn’t see my Sudoku board. But I kept thinking of the few times I’ve been in the dark during a church event. There were a total of two, neither a dance (those were well lit).

I remembered Youth Conference. My first year we had a trek camp out in the wastelands of Pueblo. Actually it was the wastelands, some huge plant was a few hills away and I heard rumors of pollution and radiation. Somehow stuck the delinquents we refused to sleep at nightfall. Instead we waited until it was quiet and snuck over to the boys’ side of camp where we played games and watched for shooting stars. I looked up at the ceiling. No stars this time.

My second memory was of girl’s camp. One year the leaders sent us on a rope hike. In the dark starless night they told us to hold onto the rope and follow it to the tree of life. I remember stumbling over tree roots, listening to running water fade in and out as the bends in the creek brought it near and carried it away and I remember thinking some crazy ax-wielding mountain man would emerge from the blackness. He didn’t but a visionary tree decorated with glow sticks appeared when I entered the clearing.

The meeting closed and I felt spiritually remembered.