It was in this spirit of renaissance that I accompanied my wife to a baby fair a number of years ago. She was eight months pregnant, and there was no hiding the fact. If I had poked her with a pin she would have floated around the room like a wounded balloon. I figured that considering her fragile state we’d do a lap of the conference center, she’d go to the bathroom a few times, we’d go out for a nice dinner, she’d check out the ladies room again and we’d be home in time for me to watch reruns of the A-Team.
We got home a lot sooner than that, and me with my head barely attached.
I suspected a problem as soon as we got to the venue: there were absolutely no men in the parking lot. Bill, I cringed to myself, you are getting some serious brownie points for this! Vastly outnumbered but stalwart and brave, I walked around the end of the car to open the door for my wife.
We went inside and right on cue, Karen needed to use the facilities. I didn’t mind waiting- there were some deep leather couches nearby. They were way more comfy than those benches outside the lingerie store at the mall. That was as comfortable as I would get that day.
I knew I was in immediate, serious danger when I noticed the glares I was getting from every third or fourth woman. Mostly they were shot from the eyeballs of what I imagined were the grandmothers-to-be. I tried shrinking, but it wouldn't work. I’ve broken some baby-fair rule, I thought. Maybe this is only supposed to be quality time for mothers and daughters.I was partly right. Here’s what happened: the dates had been mixed up and apparently I had taken my pregnant “girlfriend” to a bridal fair. Nobody noticed our rings, I guess. I can only imagine what they must have thought about me - finally deciding to marry the woman I had knocked up!
As far as near death experiences go, this ranked right up there with malaria.
My bridal fair fiasco shares some attributes with some churches. Nice venue. Crowded parking. Everyone dressed up.
And the glares. Holy cow.
If something is a little out of the ordinary people can really get crazy. A friend of mine once came to church with ratty sneakers but no socks. Nobody said anything but the message was clear, and that message wasn’t the gospel.
What happened to grace, people? What changed in us that we no longer identify with delinquents? Sadly, it appears that there is a fine line between sanctifiable and certifiable.
"It wasn't so long ago that you were mired in that old stagnant life of sin. You let the world, which doesn't know the first thing about living, tell you how to live. You filled your lungs with polluted unbelief, and then exhaled disobedience. We all did it, all of us doing what we felt like doing, when we felt like doing it, all of us in the same boat. It's a wonder God didn't lose his temper and do away with the whole lot of us. Instead, immense in mercy and with an incredible love, he embraced us. He took our sin-dead lives and made us alive in Christ." (Ephesians 2: 1-5, The Message)
