SOMETIMES ‘YA JUST GOTTA CLEANUP AISLE 3
I’m a long-time member of a discussion group made up of ministers, a few scattered academics and a biblical archaeologist or two. Our shared passion is two-fold: (1), We love to give our opinion on any and every topic, (whether we know anything about the subject matter or not, we DO have an opinion and if given the slightest opportunity, we will share it!) And (2), We love to hear ourselves talk … and talk ... aaaaand talk.
At times, in the heat of that shared passion, our wordiness spins us down rabbit holes of weird and random conversation. This past week was no exception as our “Discussion Facilitator” popped the question, “If aliens were to land, what would be your ONE question?”
Answers started coming fast and quickly begin circling the theological drain, (If you close your eyes in a quiet place, you just might hear a flushing sound.) My phone is now on speaker and I’m doodling “aliens” on a coffee stained wrinkled piece of paper. I pretend that the coffee stains were strange, other worldly hues that highlighted the aliens skin tones. So far, my only question is, “Is my alien a lizard? A nordic? Does he wear a helmet in the regal style of Darth Vader? In the end, my alien looked like a nightmarish hybrid - part frog, part the angel Gabriel.
After (kinda) hearing all the predictable answers that my friends were giving in their most authoritative “pulpit voices” using “church talk", (we can’t help but preach to/at one another,) the conversation was growing a little heated and a lot awkward and, of course, it’s now my turn to ask my ONE alien question, (not fair, Bob asked three!)
Without thinking, (often my problem) I blurted out, “First thing I’d ask these frog-Gabriel aliens is, ‘Are y’all gonna eat us?’ ‘Cause if you’re gonna eat us, nothing else matters.”
Needless to say, the discussion came to a grinding halt and after a few awkward (‘yes’ I know I just used the word ‘awkward’, but you’ve gotta understand, it was really, really awkward) moments the call (mercifully) concluded.
I mumbled a weak (and mostly insincere) “sorry.” Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut or at least posed a question way more spiritual than the one I asked, but I’d grown weary of how the conversation was going south with all the posturing and arguing. I just can’t seem to learn to keep my irritation to myself and my mouth shut. Perhaps one is never too old to try.
As I disconnected from the call, the thought hit me, “Brain Dribbles are fun until they’re spilling all over the floor, making a mess and you know you’re gonna have a huge cleanup on Aisle Three.”
So my cleanup begin, but not immediately ‘cause I was asking Jesus to forgive me. By evenings end, I had reached out to and apologized to every person on the call. I was wrong. I was disrespectful. I was irritated - but it sure was fun drawing frog-Gabriel!
