ZOOM, ZOOM, ZOOMING ALONG [R, 7-23-20]

CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections on Faith & Life for the Years of Winter

ZOOM, ZOOM, ZOOMING ALONG             [R, 7-23-20]

On Facebook recently, a preacher advertised for a “pulpit supply” for a coming Sunday, leading Zoom worship for her church, while she’s off on vacation, or rehab, or something. I thought about it. The pay was pretty good. Better than what I’m making now, anyway. There were a couple of problems, though.

First, she wanted a copy of the sermon about a week before the designated Sunday. Helen immediately thought that was so she could check out what I might say before anybody in the congregation was subjected to it. That makes sense from Helen’s perspective, because she has heard me preach.

But that preacher woman doesn’t know me, so I assumed it was so she could email copies of the sermon to congregants before the service because, especially for old people, or folks for whom Zoom is difficult—and there are a lot of reasons for that—it would be easier for them to follow along.

That would be a problem for me, of course, not because I can’t write, but because I don’t like to be fenced in. [1]

I remember Arthur Duncan, the great tap dancer on the Lawrence Welk Show, saying that Welk made him do his routine for that week ahead of time for audio, because he didn’t think the taps were loud enough in real time. Arthur said that meant he couldn’t vary his routine on the real show, because he was “tap-syncing” his moves.

Well, I don’t like to lip-sync my sermons, any more than Arthur did his taps. I like to “trust in the Spirit,” which is also known as “saying whatever comes into your mind.”

The second problem was that the church is in Pennsylvania, and I live in Indiana. By the time I figured out that with Zoom that is not a problem, some other needy vulture had swept in and grabbed that honorarium.

But it has given me an idea about how to deal with my financial needs. I think I’ll hire out to be an actor who plays other people for Zoom meetings.

I have been to a few Zoom events, and in the process have learned that most people hire actors to portray them on Zoom, while they do more interesting things.

It doesn’t seem to be too hard. Most of the actors don’t do a very good job of replicating the person they are supposed to be, anyway. Their voices are different. Their clothes are indifferent. Their eyes have a deer-in-the-headlights quality. And whatever they put on their heads is definitely not the hair of the real people they are portraying.

So, if you need someone to “go” to a Zoom meeting for you, even if it’s in Pennsylvania…

John Robert McFarland

1] Perhaps my most humiliating experience in church was the time, when I was about 11, that Donald Gene Taylor talked me into doing a duet, singing “Don’t Fence Me In,” for the talent show of one of Forsythe Church’s monthly ice cream “socials.” We were supposed to dress accordingly. Donald Gene had a whole cowboy outfit, but the best I could do was blue jeans and a straw hat. He loaned me one of his spurs, so I’d look authentic. The Forsythe folk were wonderfully supportive of their young people, but when I saw them looking at me, I realized that I was an imposter, both Westernly and musically, so Donald Gene basically sang a solo. I never did another duet, although I did go to a lot of ice cream socials.