October 2006

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Today is Reformation Sunday in the Lutheran Church. And I am reminded of an earlier Reformation Sunday.

In 1994 I was in my hometown dealing with Mother's illness. I was asked to play flute at the area Reformation Service, along with other musicians from my congregation and several others. I was happy to do so.

But I should have asked about choir robes. Whenever I had played solo flute for the congregation, I had always worn a robe. So I dressed for the Reformation service on the assumption that we would be robed for it, too. Umm, no we weren't.

No, folks, it isn't that I wore something grungy. What I wore was a dress. A nice, straight black dress, about knee length. The problem was that we musicians were seated facing the congregation. The service lasted several centuries (oh all right, about 90 minutes), and except for those moments the service called for me to be on my feet, I sat there doing my best to keep my knees together.

After the service, our pastor (who was my good friend with whom I frequently shared silliness) asked how I thought things had gone. Being my irreverent and blunt self with him, I said that the service itself had gone well, but that I was miserable because of the sitting thing.

I went on to say that if it happened again, I was going to wear something totally outrageous under my dress and let the first few rows of the congregation deal with it as best they could.

Needless to say, I never had to carry through on that one.