Barry preached at our church this morning, as Pastor was out of town. He had a rather complex subject - the parables of the vineyard and the unfaithful tenants - plus he's been working very hard, not sleeping a whole lot, and finally today dawned dreary and rainy, a perfect day for staying home and drinking cocoa in one's jammies rather than going to church. As a result, his demeanor was very low key. I kept trying to send him mental energy beams across the sanctuary, but it didn't work.
Afterward, there were the usual "good sermon, Barry" comments from our longsuffering congregation, but then Dottie K. said very sincerely, "Barry, that was a great funeral." We both broke up, assuming she was joking, but it turned to be a slip of the tongue, a rather freudian slip at that.