Not Cheating The Taxman?
Stories
Contents
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "Sweet Miss Martha" by Constance Berg
Good Stories: "Not Cheating the Taxman?" by Chuck Cammarata
"For or Against" by Constance Berg
What's Up This Week
Each of this week's StoryShare passages points to a life of victory. For Esther that victory came in the aftermath of a bold action on her part, an action that put her life at risk. For the God-follower of Psalm 1, the victory stems from planting oneself in the rich soil of God's word. In Mark a connection is made between being salt and light, and cutting off those parts of ourselves that cause sin. Victory -- in the form of becoming lights to the world -- follows on the heels of developing a life of putting off the self.
A Story to Live By
Sweet Miss Martha
By Constance Berg
"Why, anyone by just giving you a cup of water in my name is on our side. Count on it that God will notice."
-- Mark 9:41
Miss Martha Latham worked hard. She served her customers breakfast and lunch day in and day out. She had her regular customers who tipped her nicely -- usually about 20 percent of the tab. Every once in a while she'd have a disgruntled one who would leave her a penny or so. Being a waitress at this age was hard work but she didn't mind. It was better than being home all day.
There wasn't anyone home for her anymore. Martha had never married. Her parents died eleven years ago, after she had cared for them the last 23 years of their life. She thought it was a privilege: her friends thought it was a burden. They thought it had robbed her, made her serious, made her unsociable. But she loved the time she had with them. She had tediously written down the stories they shared in the evenings. It gave her a connection to others from the past and she understood her parents better through her family history. She loved to read the stories again and again.
She cherished the stories of the past as much as she cherished her Bible. She prayed for her customers by name and read her Bible every day. It was her companion long after her beloved dog had died. She used to read the Bible to him. He'd look at her and when she started, he would wag his tail, thumping the couch in a rhythmic way. Thump, thump, thump was all she heard as she read him the parables, the mysteries, the poems and all the wise words of advice. It was a good book and she was happy.
Miss Martha's back ached from all the bending she did in the diner but she didn't complain. Jorge, the chef, was so good to her. He always made sure to bring out any large orders, balanced carefully on his shoulders on a huge tray. It was fun to meet new people in this coastal tourist town and she also looked forward to seeing the regular folks who lived around here.
Harry came every day and she made sure the table he enjoyed was not taken. He always came in at quarter past eleven. He liked to have breakfast that late in the morning and the cook didn't mind. Harry was a quiet sort of fellow who enjoyed telling Martha all the things he did with his grandchildren. Martha knew the children were across the country and that he only saw them at Christmas, but it was fun to watch Harry's eyes light up. He always got so happy after Thanksgiving as the countdown began!
And Julie and Dan were regulars, too. They were private folks but over the years Martha came to hear of their children who were too busy with their successful jobs to give Julie and Dan grandchildren. They so wanted to have grandchildren! They were fun to wait on. They came every Tuesday and Thursday before their afternoon Bridge game. Martha would tease them that they ate too much for being such slim folks! She carefully wrapped their leftovers, knowing they loved the food at the diner.
Betty was a hard nut to crack. It took a while before Martha could get a smile out of her, but Martha would always get one at the end of the meal. Martha learned early on that Betty liked her coffee with two creamers and two sugars. Betty would take long looks at all the food, only to order a salad. One day a taco salad, the next maybe a chef salad. Another day it could be a chicken salad, but always a salad. Betty never wavered, always sat at the same seat up at the counter, always had her silverware in a certain position and hardly ever chatted with Martha. Martha figured that Betty was probably lost in thought or perhaps had important decisions to make. So Martha was so surprised to hear that Betty was a real estate agent. Imagine a serious, quiet, shy real estate agent! But Betty flashed lots of glitz on her hand from her watch, her diamond bracelet, to her enormous solitaire on her right hand. Martha assumed she probably sold really large homes!
There were several truck drivers who came in to the diner and they were always boisterous and full of accounts of their journeys across country. Martha wished she could go somewhere. She'd love to even go to another part of the state. But her medical needs made it impossible to travel so Martha was content to just listen. She listened and smiled and took good care of her customers.
One day, Martha wasn't at the diner. The sheriff found her in her bed, dead, looking very peaceful. He was amazed at her home. Small, very neat, very sparsely furnished and very welcoming. He was going to miss sweet Miss Martha!
The funeral was two weeks later. The church funeral committee took care of all the details: the man at the bank told them there was no family whatsoever. No one to contact. No complications that way, he said. And the lawyer declared that Martha's final testament would be shared with the bank, the diner's owner, and her pastor. It would be short and simple, he said. Just like the funeral meal they prepared.
Oh, but they had underestimated! Six hundred people filed in for the viewing. Word had gone around about Miss Martha's passing and folks wanted to pay their last respects. Jorge, Harry, Julie and Dan, Betty, the truckers -- they all came. They each shared stories about some kindness Miss Martha had done for them. And the more they shared, the more they could sense what a completely selfless, kind, and generous lady Miss Martha was.
But no one could have prepared for the news that pastor shared that day. It seemed Miss Martha had been frugal -- very frugal -- through the years. She didn't have much to spend on and she had invested her parents' money well. She had spelled out in her will that she wanted to give two parting gifts to the town. To Jorge and the diner, she left $2.1 million. Enough to give it a facelift, build the patio Jorge always dreamed about, and surely enough to hire another waitress to help with the morning shift! And to the local Christian university, Miss Martha Latham left $17.2 million. Enough to enlarge the library, start some art classes, expand the marine biology department. She loved her coastal town and she wanted the town's children to be able to stay close and study. It was the largest private gift the school had ever had.
Folks poured out of the church, stunned. Testimony after testimony was given about Miss Martha's sweet nature, her generosity in general. But most of all, the gift she gave to the kids who could study in town and study the resource literally at hand in the water. Miss Martha wasn't fancy, she didn't live a flamboyant or extravagant lifestyle. She just worked hard, loved her neighbors and gave of herself. Surely she was a blessed woman of God!
Constance Berg is a former missionary to Chiapas, Mexico. She is currently based in Bakersfield, California, where she serves as the director of 18 nursing homes for handicapped individuals. Berg is the author of three volumes of the CSS series Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit.
Good Stories
Not Cheating the Taxman?
by Chuck Cammarata
Esther 7:1-8; 9:20-22; Psalm 1; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50
My friend Jim was selling his car. He put an ad in the newspaper, fielded calls, and showed the car to several potential buyers; then he finally received an offer for the car, which he accepted. Now he and the buyer were off to the notary public to transfer the title. On the way the buyer said to Jim, "Would you mind understating the price I paid for the car so that I can save a few bucks on the taxes? I'll share the savings with you."
It seemed like an okay idea to Jim. He could save a few bucks and make his customer happy, too. What would the harm be? They arrived at the notary's office and began signing papers. The notary asked Jim how much he sold the car for, and the buyer jumped in with an answer. He stated the price at about half what he had actually paid Jim for the car. Jim felt a twinge, but he said nothing, signed the papers, and went home.
All night long he thought about his little deception. He tried to put it out of his mind. He tried to tell himself no one was being hurt by it. But still he could not forget it. He had a restless night. The next morning, the twinge was still with him. He began to understand that this was the twinge of God. His action had in fact hurt someone. It had hurt his relationship with God, and therefore it had hurt him. It had hurt his customer as well, by showing him that being a Christian didn't really mean much. Christians deceive, just like everyone else.
Jim knew what he had to do. He called the buyer and arranged for him to meet him again at the notary's office. Once there, he explained his problem. He told the man that he was going to tell the notary the truth and have her redo the title transfer. He even offered to pay for all the fees and the extra tax that would be required.
His buyer, of course, wanted to know why Jim had changed his mind. Why was this such a big deal to him? Jim at first felt uneasy about talking about his faith, but then decided it was the right thing to do. He told the man that he was a Christian, and that he had lived a pretty miserable life for most of his youth, but then had met someone who loved him more than he ever expected. That someone was God, and now, because of all that God had done for him, Jim had given himself to loving and serving God, and serving God required honesty and integrity, even in small things.
Jim thought this man might now consider him to be a religious kook, but the man seemed to understand and the two of them went in the office and undid what they had done the day before.
As they departed, Jim thanked the man for being understanding. The man shrugged, saying, "Think nothing of it." Jim went home, feeling good about doing the right thing. And that was the end of that, until the following Sunday morning when a familiar man came and sat next to Jim in his pew at church. It was the man to whom he had sold the car. The man sat down and smiled at Jim. Jim just stared. The man said, "Well, I decided after our little episode this week that maybe I needed to find out more about this life-changing God of yours."
That was four years ago. Today, Jim and his good friend Scott see each other at church nearly every Sunday.
Charles Cammarata is the pastor of Fairview Presbyterian Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania. He is the author of the CSS titles Lighting The Flame and Lectionary Worship Workbook, and he has regularly contributed worship resources for The Immediate Word. Cammarata is a graduate of Duquesne University and Pittsburgh Theological Seminary.
For or Against?
by Constance Berg
"Whoever is not against us is for us."
-- Mark 9:40
Shelley looked around and took a seat in the front row. Today was the annual meeting and she was ready to give some of these people a piece of her mind. She was sick and tired of all the changes going on. She sniffed in disgust just as Ellen walked through the door. Shelley glared at her.
Shelley hated Ellen. Ellen was a retired pastor's wife, a master of organization, very congenial, and committed to her church. And Ellen was the head of the Altar Guild. Shelley had had that job for twenty years, but now the church structure had changed and Ellen had unanimously been voted in as leader. How could they vote for someone who had only moved into the community six years ago? They didn't even know her! Surely she couldn't lead the Altar Guild as well as Shelley had!
It made Shelley really mad. Whenever she could, she made loud comments about how bad the altar looked. The cross wasn't dusted in the corner. The wax was not cut off the candles. The altar had not been polished on the side. Why, when Shelley was the leader, no usher dared step out of line. No acolyte even smiled unless Shelley told him to. And not one speck of dust was left on the cross. At least Shelley felt a little relief when people smiled at her comments.
Missy walked in and sat up front. Shelley hated Missy, too. She was the current pastor's wife. Shelley was tired of seeing Missy playing at every funeral, worship service, wedding, and social event. People were always commenting about the beautiful music Missy made. Shelley preferred the organ. They said it wasn't working, but Shelley just knew it was a lie so Missy could play the piano. Shelley would talk loudly during the preludes and postludes. Wouldn't people rather hear Shelley's comments than Missy playing the piano -- again?
Whenever Missy's daughter was around, Shelley loved to tease her. Last week Shelley had told Andrea her dress was so short that Shelley could see her underwear. And Tuesday night Andrea had worn a t-shirt over shorts at the church school carnival. Didn't Pastor Tom see how his daughter dressed these days?
And how dare Pastor Tom go on vacation and not visit Shelley's sister-in-law! They had been only seventy miles away and they didn't even call to relay Shelley's greetings! Shelley had given Pastor complete directions and phone numbers all for nothing. Pastors weren't as caring as they were fifty years ago -- that was for sure.
Pastor gave devotions and an opening prayer. The council president stood up and discussed the agenda. Shelley turned to the lady next to her. The president's skirt was entirely too short and just a bit too tight. How could she sit in that dreadful thing? And the color of her shirt made her seem pale. Didn't she have a mirror? The lady didn't say anything. Shelley decided that besides her figure, her hearing must be going, also.
The minutes were read and approved. The old business was reviewed and the new business was discussed. Shelley was ready when the issue of elections came up. The president was saying that those elected should be people who were committed to their church. Shelley sniffed loudly. She had attended this church for 68 years.
The president said those elected had to be people who could be looked up to and trusted. Humph, Shelley had counted the money so often, she knew by heart what the Olsons, the Skeets, and the Jameses gave every week. Did they call that tithing?
"Those who are elected need to be members of good standing, showing a record of helping, caring, and compassion, and a love for Jesus." Yeah, like who else was there the last twelve Thanksgivings when it was the church's turn to serve at the mission? Shelley sat a little taller.
The president asked if there were any other comments. Mr. Montgomery stepped up to the microphone. He was sure getting more and more hunched over, Shelley noticed. He probably sat in his recliner too much. He never did much around church. He helped usher one Sunday, but he seemed irritated when Shelley had told him he had to go home and put on a tie and clean his shoes. Thank goodness he never ushered again!
Mr. Montgomery looked at Shelley. Then he looked at the council president. "Madame President, it's nice to have those requirements, however I have just one small suggestion. We need to consider just one more thing before we nominate anyone. The person nominated should be one who builds up the body of Christ, not one who cuts it down. The person who has been for us by encouraging us to do our best in every way is for Christ. The person who acts against the body is against Christ."
A murmur went through the crowd. Shelley wondered what all that gibberish meant. The president returned to the microphone. "We will now open the floor for nominations."
(Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit, Series II, Cycle B, Constance Berg, CSS Publishing, Co., Inc., 1999.)
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and email the story to us.
**************
StoryShare, October 1, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
A Story to Live By: "Sweet Miss Martha" by Constance Berg
Good Stories: "Not Cheating the Taxman?" by Chuck Cammarata
"For or Against" by Constance Berg
What's Up This Week
Each of this week's StoryShare passages points to a life of victory. For Esther that victory came in the aftermath of a bold action on her part, an action that put her life at risk. For the God-follower of Psalm 1, the victory stems from planting oneself in the rich soil of God's word. In Mark a connection is made between being salt and light, and cutting off those parts of ourselves that cause sin. Victory -- in the form of becoming lights to the world -- follows on the heels of developing a life of putting off the self.
A Story to Live By
Sweet Miss Martha
By Constance Berg
"Why, anyone by just giving you a cup of water in my name is on our side. Count on it that God will notice."
-- Mark 9:41
Miss Martha Latham worked hard. She served her customers breakfast and lunch day in and day out. She had her regular customers who tipped her nicely -- usually about 20 percent of the tab. Every once in a while she'd have a disgruntled one who would leave her a penny or so. Being a waitress at this age was hard work but she didn't mind. It was better than being home all day.
There wasn't anyone home for her anymore. Martha had never married. Her parents died eleven years ago, after she had cared for them the last 23 years of their life. She thought it was a privilege: her friends thought it was a burden. They thought it had robbed her, made her serious, made her unsociable. But she loved the time she had with them. She had tediously written down the stories they shared in the evenings. It gave her a connection to others from the past and she understood her parents better through her family history. She loved to read the stories again and again.
She cherished the stories of the past as much as she cherished her Bible. She prayed for her customers by name and read her Bible every day. It was her companion long after her beloved dog had died. She used to read the Bible to him. He'd look at her and when she started, he would wag his tail, thumping the couch in a rhythmic way. Thump, thump, thump was all she heard as she read him the parables, the mysteries, the poems and all the wise words of advice. It was a good book and she was happy.
Miss Martha's back ached from all the bending she did in the diner but she didn't complain. Jorge, the chef, was so good to her. He always made sure to bring out any large orders, balanced carefully on his shoulders on a huge tray. It was fun to meet new people in this coastal tourist town and she also looked forward to seeing the regular folks who lived around here.
Harry came every day and she made sure the table he enjoyed was not taken. He always came in at quarter past eleven. He liked to have breakfast that late in the morning and the cook didn't mind. Harry was a quiet sort of fellow who enjoyed telling Martha all the things he did with his grandchildren. Martha knew the children were across the country and that he only saw them at Christmas, but it was fun to watch Harry's eyes light up. He always got so happy after Thanksgiving as the countdown began!
And Julie and Dan were regulars, too. They were private folks but over the years Martha came to hear of their children who were too busy with their successful jobs to give Julie and Dan grandchildren. They so wanted to have grandchildren! They were fun to wait on. They came every Tuesday and Thursday before their afternoon Bridge game. Martha would tease them that they ate too much for being such slim folks! She carefully wrapped their leftovers, knowing they loved the food at the diner.
Betty was a hard nut to crack. It took a while before Martha could get a smile out of her, but Martha would always get one at the end of the meal. Martha learned early on that Betty liked her coffee with two creamers and two sugars. Betty would take long looks at all the food, only to order a salad. One day a taco salad, the next maybe a chef salad. Another day it could be a chicken salad, but always a salad. Betty never wavered, always sat at the same seat up at the counter, always had her silverware in a certain position and hardly ever chatted with Martha. Martha figured that Betty was probably lost in thought or perhaps had important decisions to make. So Martha was so surprised to hear that Betty was a real estate agent. Imagine a serious, quiet, shy real estate agent! But Betty flashed lots of glitz on her hand from her watch, her diamond bracelet, to her enormous solitaire on her right hand. Martha assumed she probably sold really large homes!
There were several truck drivers who came in to the diner and they were always boisterous and full of accounts of their journeys across country. Martha wished she could go somewhere. She'd love to even go to another part of the state. But her medical needs made it impossible to travel so Martha was content to just listen. She listened and smiled and took good care of her customers.
One day, Martha wasn't at the diner. The sheriff found her in her bed, dead, looking very peaceful. He was amazed at her home. Small, very neat, very sparsely furnished and very welcoming. He was going to miss sweet Miss Martha!
The funeral was two weeks later. The church funeral committee took care of all the details: the man at the bank told them there was no family whatsoever. No one to contact. No complications that way, he said. And the lawyer declared that Martha's final testament would be shared with the bank, the diner's owner, and her pastor. It would be short and simple, he said. Just like the funeral meal they prepared.
Oh, but they had underestimated! Six hundred people filed in for the viewing. Word had gone around about Miss Martha's passing and folks wanted to pay their last respects. Jorge, Harry, Julie and Dan, Betty, the truckers -- they all came. They each shared stories about some kindness Miss Martha had done for them. And the more they shared, the more they could sense what a completely selfless, kind, and generous lady Miss Martha was.
But no one could have prepared for the news that pastor shared that day. It seemed Miss Martha had been frugal -- very frugal -- through the years. She didn't have much to spend on and she had invested her parents' money well. She had spelled out in her will that she wanted to give two parting gifts to the town. To Jorge and the diner, she left $2.1 million. Enough to give it a facelift, build the patio Jorge always dreamed about, and surely enough to hire another waitress to help with the morning shift! And to the local Christian university, Miss Martha Latham left $17.2 million. Enough to enlarge the library, start some art classes, expand the marine biology department. She loved her coastal town and she wanted the town's children to be able to stay close and study. It was the largest private gift the school had ever had.
Folks poured out of the church, stunned. Testimony after testimony was given about Miss Martha's sweet nature, her generosity in general. But most of all, the gift she gave to the kids who could study in town and study the resource literally at hand in the water. Miss Martha wasn't fancy, she didn't live a flamboyant or extravagant lifestyle. She just worked hard, loved her neighbors and gave of herself. Surely she was a blessed woman of God!
Constance Berg is a former missionary to Chiapas, Mexico. She is currently based in Bakersfield, California, where she serves as the director of 18 nursing homes for handicapped individuals. Berg is the author of three volumes of the CSS series Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit.
Good Stories
Not Cheating the Taxman?
by Chuck Cammarata
Esther 7:1-8; 9:20-22; Psalm 1; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50
My friend Jim was selling his car. He put an ad in the newspaper, fielded calls, and showed the car to several potential buyers; then he finally received an offer for the car, which he accepted. Now he and the buyer were off to the notary public to transfer the title. On the way the buyer said to Jim, "Would you mind understating the price I paid for the car so that I can save a few bucks on the taxes? I'll share the savings with you."
It seemed like an okay idea to Jim. He could save a few bucks and make his customer happy, too. What would the harm be? They arrived at the notary's office and began signing papers. The notary asked Jim how much he sold the car for, and the buyer jumped in with an answer. He stated the price at about half what he had actually paid Jim for the car. Jim felt a twinge, but he said nothing, signed the papers, and went home.
All night long he thought about his little deception. He tried to put it out of his mind. He tried to tell himself no one was being hurt by it. But still he could not forget it. He had a restless night. The next morning, the twinge was still with him. He began to understand that this was the twinge of God. His action had in fact hurt someone. It had hurt his relationship with God, and therefore it had hurt him. It had hurt his customer as well, by showing him that being a Christian didn't really mean much. Christians deceive, just like everyone else.
Jim knew what he had to do. He called the buyer and arranged for him to meet him again at the notary's office. Once there, he explained his problem. He told the man that he was going to tell the notary the truth and have her redo the title transfer. He even offered to pay for all the fees and the extra tax that would be required.
His buyer, of course, wanted to know why Jim had changed his mind. Why was this such a big deal to him? Jim at first felt uneasy about talking about his faith, but then decided it was the right thing to do. He told the man that he was a Christian, and that he had lived a pretty miserable life for most of his youth, but then had met someone who loved him more than he ever expected. That someone was God, and now, because of all that God had done for him, Jim had given himself to loving and serving God, and serving God required honesty and integrity, even in small things.
Jim thought this man might now consider him to be a religious kook, but the man seemed to understand and the two of them went in the office and undid what they had done the day before.
As they departed, Jim thanked the man for being understanding. The man shrugged, saying, "Think nothing of it." Jim went home, feeling good about doing the right thing. And that was the end of that, until the following Sunday morning when a familiar man came and sat next to Jim in his pew at church. It was the man to whom he had sold the car. The man sat down and smiled at Jim. Jim just stared. The man said, "Well, I decided after our little episode this week that maybe I needed to find out more about this life-changing God of yours."
That was four years ago. Today, Jim and his good friend Scott see each other at church nearly every Sunday.
Charles Cammarata is the pastor of Fairview Presbyterian Church in Fairview, Pennsylvania. He is the author of the CSS titles Lighting The Flame and Lectionary Worship Workbook, and he has regularly contributed worship resources for The Immediate Word. Cammarata is a graduate of Duquesne University and Pittsburgh Theological Seminary.
For or Against?
by Constance Berg
"Whoever is not against us is for us."
-- Mark 9:40
Shelley looked around and took a seat in the front row. Today was the annual meeting and she was ready to give some of these people a piece of her mind. She was sick and tired of all the changes going on. She sniffed in disgust just as Ellen walked through the door. Shelley glared at her.
Shelley hated Ellen. Ellen was a retired pastor's wife, a master of organization, very congenial, and committed to her church. And Ellen was the head of the Altar Guild. Shelley had had that job for twenty years, but now the church structure had changed and Ellen had unanimously been voted in as leader. How could they vote for someone who had only moved into the community six years ago? They didn't even know her! Surely she couldn't lead the Altar Guild as well as Shelley had!
It made Shelley really mad. Whenever she could, she made loud comments about how bad the altar looked. The cross wasn't dusted in the corner. The wax was not cut off the candles. The altar had not been polished on the side. Why, when Shelley was the leader, no usher dared step out of line. No acolyte even smiled unless Shelley told him to. And not one speck of dust was left on the cross. At least Shelley felt a little relief when people smiled at her comments.
Missy walked in and sat up front. Shelley hated Missy, too. She was the current pastor's wife. Shelley was tired of seeing Missy playing at every funeral, worship service, wedding, and social event. People were always commenting about the beautiful music Missy made. Shelley preferred the organ. They said it wasn't working, but Shelley just knew it was a lie so Missy could play the piano. Shelley would talk loudly during the preludes and postludes. Wouldn't people rather hear Shelley's comments than Missy playing the piano -- again?
Whenever Missy's daughter was around, Shelley loved to tease her. Last week Shelley had told Andrea her dress was so short that Shelley could see her underwear. And Tuesday night Andrea had worn a t-shirt over shorts at the church school carnival. Didn't Pastor Tom see how his daughter dressed these days?
And how dare Pastor Tom go on vacation and not visit Shelley's sister-in-law! They had been only seventy miles away and they didn't even call to relay Shelley's greetings! Shelley had given Pastor complete directions and phone numbers all for nothing. Pastors weren't as caring as they were fifty years ago -- that was for sure.
Pastor gave devotions and an opening prayer. The council president stood up and discussed the agenda. Shelley turned to the lady next to her. The president's skirt was entirely too short and just a bit too tight. How could she sit in that dreadful thing? And the color of her shirt made her seem pale. Didn't she have a mirror? The lady didn't say anything. Shelley decided that besides her figure, her hearing must be going, also.
The minutes were read and approved. The old business was reviewed and the new business was discussed. Shelley was ready when the issue of elections came up. The president was saying that those elected should be people who were committed to their church. Shelley sniffed loudly. She had attended this church for 68 years.
The president said those elected had to be people who could be looked up to and trusted. Humph, Shelley had counted the money so often, she knew by heart what the Olsons, the Skeets, and the Jameses gave every week. Did they call that tithing?
"Those who are elected need to be members of good standing, showing a record of helping, caring, and compassion, and a love for Jesus." Yeah, like who else was there the last twelve Thanksgivings when it was the church's turn to serve at the mission? Shelley sat a little taller.
The president asked if there were any other comments. Mr. Montgomery stepped up to the microphone. He was sure getting more and more hunched over, Shelley noticed. He probably sat in his recliner too much. He never did much around church. He helped usher one Sunday, but he seemed irritated when Shelley had told him he had to go home and put on a tie and clean his shoes. Thank goodness he never ushered again!
Mr. Montgomery looked at Shelley. Then he looked at the council president. "Madame President, it's nice to have those requirements, however I have just one small suggestion. We need to consider just one more thing before we nominate anyone. The person nominated should be one who builds up the body of Christ, not one who cuts it down. The person who has been for us by encouraging us to do our best in every way is for Christ. The person who acts against the body is against Christ."
A murmur went through the crowd. Shelley wondered what all that gibberish meant. The president returned to the microphone. "We will now open the floor for nominations."
(Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit, Series II, Cycle B, Constance Berg, CSS Publishing, Co., Inc., 1999.)
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and email the story to us.
**************
StoryShare, October 1, 2006, issue.
Copyright 2006 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
