Lucky Penny
I remember that Sunday morning well. It was the day I discovered I was selfish and that a mother could be disappointed in her son.
I wasn’t a bad kid… As a young boy, growing up in the suburbs of Los Angeles, very near East Compton, we attended a little conservative church in Paramount. It’s hard to think of anything as “little” or “conservative” in California, but these were the 70’s… it was a little different back then. The church we went to was a church’s, church. You know, like a man’s, man. Everything about it was classic 1950’s Andy Griffith church. Wooden pews, pulpit in the middle of the stage… a wooden hymn board that logged attendance, offering totals and the page numbers of the songs that would be sung during the morning service. It even had the Jordan River painted on the wall above the baptistery… (I recently traveled to the Jordan River and I must say, that painting above the baptistery looked nothing like the Jordan river in Israel). Lastly, sandwiched between pulpit and pews was a wooden table with the words, “Do this in remembrance of Me.”
Among the many things we did during service, each week our little church took part in the Lords Supper. The “Lord’s Supper,” in my opinion, was and is today, one of the hardest things for any child growing up in church. It’s the time where confirmed believers get to hear about and remember Jesus’ sacrifice. Believers break unleavened bread, which represents Christ’s broken body on the cross and drink grape juice from a cup, which represents Christ’s blood that was shed for us. I’ll not go into much more detail theologically here… There’s far more theology and doctrine in the small definition above than I’m willing to give. However, I would like to share with you the view of a young boy who sat week after week in wooden pews on Sunday morning during communion.
It seemed as if breakfast came WAY to early on Sunday mornings… There was hardly any time to enjoy a bowl of cereal and watch cartoons. Which was fine, because Sunday morning didn’t have the cartoons like Saturday morning did… but that’s another story. Anyhow, after our quick breakfast, my mother would gather my two sisters and I to the car and we would begin our journey to church. On occasion, only if we had time, we would stop by the corner market on our way to church and grab a treat. I’m still not sure why we stopped, but on occasion, we did. I remember walking into the corner market that housed nine foot tall shelves of candy, chocolates and treats. I knew they were nine feet tall because they towered above my head like the felt images of David standing against the giant Goliath that I had seen in Sunday school. My mom would reach to the top of these nine foot shelves and grab a roll of mints or a pack of gum, usually juicy fruit, buy it, and then race back to the car and head towards church.
I admit, I like Juicy Fruit gum, but my favorite was “Fruit Stripe” gum. You know, the one with the Zebra. “Fruit stripe chewing gum for kids in five juicy flavors: cherry, lemon, lime, mixed fruit and orange?” Yup, that’s the one. It was always a treat to get Fruit Stripe gum. But this Sunday, the day I discovered I was selfish, there was not stopping at the corner store. It was just a drive to church.
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