Showing up for worship we were welcomed with “Happy Pentecost!”
Looking at each other we knew I had retired from ministry.
Staring at all the red shirts, blouses, dresses, skirts and even slacks, any socks?
we then looked at our muted, beige, khaki, olive-green clothes and
thought, actually we kind of like this, this escape from the tyranny of the church year.
Standing outside the church on the steps for the annual Pentecost
Family Picture, with my left thumb, I teasingly turned down the waist of my
Eddie Bauer slacks to reveal red, silk underwear. Fortunately, the pastor was
Standing in front of me, so only we will know…as the fire engine red, flame
danced in our imaginations following the benediction
and into coffee hour.
Showing, looking, staring, standing, we whispered to each other across the room, “Happy
Pentecost, darling.”
bobdahl 
You’ve not changed a bit, Robert. I remember when I was a deacon at 1st Pres in E’town. One Sunday I prepared the acolyte, a little girl with whom I had to walk down the isle and lift up so she could light the candles, by placing the green liturgical collar on her. I thought we were ready to go, but when we entered the sanctuary I was shocked to find the pulpit and all draped in red. I turned the kid around, removed the green, and draped her with red. Then we continued the ritual of candle lighting. Later, after the service, I said to you, Rev. Dahl: “I thought the liturgical color for today was green,” to which YOU replied, “It is, but I got tired of green so I changed it to red.”
Like this Bob. . .
Like this Bob. . .