We were sitting in church this morning listening to a sermon about Enoch, one of at least two people in the Bible who didn’t die (can you name one other?). A sudden movement caught my eye, in front, above and to the left of our pew. At first, I thought a small bird had somehow found its way into the room, but as it flew closer I (and the other 250 other people near enough to the action) recognized it as a bat.<\/p>\n
Using its unerring sonar, it flew about fifteen feet into the congregation and then made a swift-but-graceful right turn and landed on a man’s neck, where it hung briefly on his shirt collar. There was an audible gasp from the congregation, causing the preacher to stumble momentarily as he attempted to process what was going on out there (remember, he’s being taped for TV). Helpful congregants quickly brushed the creature from the man’s neck and one brave soul grabbed the bat by the scruff of its<\/em> neck (bats do<\/em> have neck scruffs, don’t they?) and carried it out of the room.<\/p>\n As luck would have it (if I may be so bold as to use that term in conjunction with a worship service), although the man whose neck provided an inexplicably attractive target for the bat turned out to be a visitor to our church — he was also a former long-time member who was back in town temporarily and thus we didn’t have to worry about the impression we made on visitors who show up to check us out only to be attacked by wild and possibly rabid creatures of the night.<\/p>\n The funniest thing happened after the service, however, as I was walking down the hall to Sunday School and struck up a mobile conversation with a woman in our department who had also witnessed the episode. We’ll call her Vicki, since that’s her name.<\/p>\n “Vicki, what’d you think of excitement in church?” I asked.<\/p>\n She shook her head and smiled. “Those barn swallows just get into everything, don’t they?”<\/p>\n I did a kind of double-take and looked to see if she was kidding. She wasn’t. “You do know that was a bat and not a barn swallow, don’t you?”<\/p>\n “No. It was a barn swallow.” (This is the point at which some of you are now channeling Monty Python. Don’t deny it.) She added emphasis with a vigorous shake of the head.<\/p>\n “Vicki, you don’t honestly think that a barn swallow would land on someone’s neck, and then be so easily captured, do you?”<\/p>\n “It. Was. A. Barn. Swallow.” I could hear her teeth clench.<\/p>\n A light went on in my feeble mind, and I understood what she was saying. “Ooooh, yeah…I know…I was just kidding. Those silly barn swallows.”<\/p>\n If she needs to believe that we’ve got something other than bats in our belfry in order to re-enter our worship center, that’s a game I’m perfectly willing to play along with.<\/p>\n