(This an excerpt from: “The Pastor Who Couldn’t Wait For Christmas…To Be Over” …The story follows New Lexington Church, Youth Pastor Russ Moyer and his wife Cecilia from Thanksgiving through the holiday season while working church ministry. And while some things will seem familiar…No I am not Russ, Ana is not Cecilia, and the Free Wesleyan Alliance New Lexington Church (Featured in “The Dark Norm” and mentioned in “The Dead Bug Tales” is not old Temple City Naz.)
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Sunday, December 7th, 1997
“2nd. Sunday Morning Live Nativity On Platform
(Morning)
The Carfinos and Rodriguezs brought the hot chocolate and donuts for the decorating party. They placed them in the youth room while I was in my office making notes and plans for that afternoon’s play rehearsal. Pastor Knott informed me he wouldn’t be able to make any more practices but was sure I could handle it.
“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Dan said as he and Stan came into my office. Earlier, they’d walked past me and dropped off the refreshments.
“How’s it going,” I said. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, youth room looks great,” Dan said.
“Except, there’s no tree,” Stan said.
“Are you guys blind? I put it down there last night before the banquet.”
I got up from my desk and walked into the youth room, and saw a platform without a tree.
Dawn came in with her worship crew. “Where’s the tree? I thought we were doing some choruses and decorating the tree?”
“Did somebody steal it?” Ashton asked.
More teens began streaming in. A few missed the tree, and the rest enjoyed the hot chocolate and donuts. A half-hour in, after worship, and announcements, no one cared.
“Be sure to get your dough in for our Christmas Banquet,” I reminded, and the decoration party was in full swing without any decorating going on.
I tried not to be a control freak, I tried to be happy that my group was circulating and interacting, but I wanted to know what happened to my Christmas tree.
“It’s probably the Baptists,” Ashton said. “They were pretty upset after that last broom ball game.”
“After they took that cheap shot, we had to knuckle-down on them,” Ryan said, punching a fist into an open palm.
“I don’t know,” Stan said. “But I don’t think we should let them get away with it.”
“I love the maturity around here,” Dawn said before walking away.
With ten minutes left in the Sunday School period, Pastor Sheridan appeared and gave me the FWA finger.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Come on, we gotta go. We gotta get you taken care of before service starts.”
“What do you mean?” I followed him up the steps, outside, and then into the choir room. “What are we doing?”
Then I saw Cecilia putting a very familiar sky blue cloak over her clothes. She then tucked her hair back under it and smiled at me.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” she said.
“No way, I don’t want to do this.”
“Come on, Joseph,” Karen Sheridan laughed and came at me with a brown robe.
“Why didn’t you say something? I don’t want to do this.”
She looked at herself in a stand-up mirror. “Pastor Bing, my shoes are okay, right?”
“Yeah, you’re going to be sitting the whole time, so they’re fine.”
“Cecilia?” I said.
“What?” she said, shrugging and then admiring her reflection. “I wanted to be Mary.”
Because we were in costume, we stayed backstage through worship, offering, and announcements. Everyone was encouraged to be at tonight’s Philippians 3 concert and reception following. All funds raised were going to the purchase of new choir robes in 1998.
Pastor Knott read his opening scripture and went into prayer. With heads bowed, Cecilia and I took our places.
“Amen,” Knott said.
With my eyes fixed on Baby Jesus, I heard the “ahh’s” of the ladies as well as the spitting laughs of Stan, Dan, and the rest of the youth group.
Knott went into his message about history’s lack of appreciation for Joseph.
“We don’t think of Joseph’s story,” he preached. “We like the Nativity scene, we like the shepherds and the wise men, but we don’t think about what Joseph had to endure…”
Cecilia sat on the bench, holding the plastic Baby Jesus, staring down at him. I was over her shoulder with a brown bathrobe, a horrible brown beard attached to my ears, and a cream-colored towel belted around my head as I leaned on a staff.
In the third row, on the youth side of the sanctuary, Jon leaned forward, trying to make eye contact with me. I made it once, and he pointed with a finger downward. I looked away without moving my head. My vision could catch part of Pastor Knott pacing the floor as he spoke. I could see Sherry in the back sitting in the sound booth, with Fred Roke, trying to master what she needed to master for the Christmas play.
All the other faces were a blur as I avoided the smirking and smiling of my friends. And again, my eyes connected with Jon—leaning forward and pointing downward with his finger. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to get me to check the fly on my pants.
It was an old youth group trick to get someone to reach down and check. It was sophomoric, silly, and occasionally very funny when I was doing it to someone else.
The robe wasn’t closed all the way. I couldn’t tell what was exposed.
I averted my eyes. I wasn’t going to let the punk get me.
But what if Jon was right?
No, of course, he wasn’t right. But doubt had been planted. My hand began to tremble as it craved to casually slide down the staff to double-check. Just to be sure. Just to be safe. Jon and the rest of the youth group knew how hard things had been for me. He was just looking out for me.
If my fly’s open, I’m dead.
“Jon Geddes,” Cecilia’s rational voice came into my head. “Russ, it’s Jon Geddes.”
I made eye contact again, and Jon exaggerated his pointing. His look was serious.
If I do it real quick, no one will notice.
“Don’t do it!”
“You have to understand what Joseph was going through,” Knott continued. “His bride-to-be is telling him she’s pregnant at a time when there had been centuries of silence from the Lord. The scriptures even indicate he was having doubts…But he loved her…”
I wasn’t going to do it, I couldn’t do it, no way…but my hand kept sliding down, and the moment of truth had come. I looked at Jon again, and his expression was one of someone trying to save me from terrible disaster.
He’s lying. He’s messing with me…
“Of course he is, Russ. It’s Jon Geddes. He’s a goofball.”
“…And yet, Joseph knew this was of the Lord. That Jesus was coming into this world to save us all from Satan’s power and free us from Hell….”
I let my pinky finger stretch for the top of my pants…and muffled laughter came. My fly was up.
He got me.
Jon and Alex Borland, with heads down, were not so silently laughing, shoulders bouncing.
“Jesus came to free us from Hell,” Knott said, and then he looked at the two, who couldn’t keep their joy hidden. “And I know two young men that are on their way to Hell right now.”
An affirming murmur worked through the sanctuary.
Justice!
When the final amen was given, Mr. Geddes came down the side aisle, grabbed Jon by the elbow, and jerked him out into the courtyard.
It was a beautiful sight.
