I am not making this up:
Christmas Eve, a couple wandered into the church and asked: “Can we get some holy water to go?” Uh, what? Some people open presents on Christmas Eve. Some people gather for dinner and drinks. I have no idea what they planned to do Christmas Eve, but I have a bad feeling about it.
During my ordination to the diaconate, I helped distribute the wine at Communion. When I needed to refill the chalice, I took the cup to the server with the extra wine. He refilled my cup and then licked the mouth of the cruet every time I refilled the cup. I am not sure if that is high church or low church. I just call it gross.
I was asked to be a pet bereavement chaplain. I started to laugh, but it was not a joke. Needless to say, that person never called me about that position again.
I buried a man’s ashes in his chicken yard. Really! He wanted to be buried near his beloved chickens. Did I mention that the chickens were fighting cocks?
First Sunday in the new parish, I dumped a full cruet of wine all over the altar. At another parish, I managed to pour wine down the front of one of the acolytes. I believe that people are starting to wear raincoats around me and are putting sippy cup tops on the chalices.
As a chaplain, a woman flashed me and said: "I am a eucharistic minister and this is where I keep my eucharistic powers." Whoa! I am wondering about who received communion from her. Somehow her methods seemed a little unorthodox, but it did appear to raise the heart rates of several patients.
I quoted Britney Spears in a sermon. I will let you figure out the Scripture. From the Rite One crowd someone asked: "Who is Britney Spears?"
These are only the ones I can tell you. The rest, well, those I only share over drinks.