thoughts on communion

This bloggage began its life as a ‘Thought for the week’ shared with the Ministers I serve in the Eastern Baptist Association. As you will see I have extended my thinking a little since the original ‘Thought’.

As you probably know by now I am about to undergo some surgery on 13th February, which will be followed by a period of convalescence. I was told about it about 3 months ago and have been on the waiting list ever since. (This is not a complaint about waiting lists – there were people with greater clinical need than me further up the list.) Because I could have been called at short notice at any time I have not been able to commit to meetings and events in my diary. That means that preaching engagements have been postponed because churches need a little more certainty about who will take the service than ‘I should be able to make it’. It has been frustrating. But it has also been liberating as I have found more space in my diary than I am used to and have taken the opportunity to catch up with people I haven’t had a chance to, I have done more reading than usual, and I have exercised the gift of administration and got on top of my emails and paperwork – almost emptying both the virtual and real inboxes. Now, however, I have some certainty.

One thing that has happened several times since the operation date was confirmed has made me chuckle. People have spoken to me about “the last time I will see you” or “your last meeting”. Now I know (or hope) that they have meant “the last time I will see you until after you return to work” and “your last meeting before you go on sick leave” but the apparent finality made me chuckle and I couldn’t help commenting on it along the lines of, “Do you know something I don’t?” and “That’s a bit final!” This morning as I recalled those conversations I had a glimpse of what Jesus may have felt as he was sharing the Last Supper with his closest friends. I had not really paid much attention to the element of provisional finality in what Jesus said before sharing bread and wine with the Twelve. And I had not given enough attention to how eager Jesus was to share the meal with them. “Eagerly desired” doesn’t really do justice to the passionate desire he had to share the Passover that ‘one last time’ (until…) – the Greek word ‘epithoumeo’ has the sense of ‘desperately longing for’, ‘setting one’s heart on’ and even ‘lusting after’! With that in mind, read Luke’s record of the Last Supper – (Luke 22:14-20).

14 When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. 15 And he said to them, ‘I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. 16 For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfilment in the kingdom of God.’

17 After taking the cup, he gave thanks and said, ‘Take this and divide it among you. 18 For I tell you I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.’

19 And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.’

20 In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”

At one time I was booked to have the operation just before Christmas and to be in hospital for the festive season. I was keen just to get it over with but my wife, Sally, was eager that we should have the whole family around the table for that meal. It was only in conversation with her after the operation was postponed that I realised just how important it was to her: she had set her heart on me being there because it meant something. That has helped me realise how eager Jesus would have been to share the meal with those he loved. Passover was a big deal: it meant something.

Jesus knew what lay ahead of him, and that made him even more desperate to share that special meal with these people who had become special to him. It meant something.pexels-photo-632043.jpeg

So how eager am I to share bread and wine with those I love? Sometimes, perhaps because of frequency or regularity, we may take sharing communion for granted. We add it onto the end of a service or perhaps even forget that it’s that Sunday in the month until we see that the elements have been prepared (have you had that experience too?). I am reminded of my Father’s ‘Priesting’ (Ordination in the C of E) which concluded with him leading the celebration of Communion. I was sat at the front and had received bread and wine from my Dad (what a moment!) so was watching the rest of the congregation line up. And I could see a man struggling forward from the back of the church with two walking sticks. He was really unstable and I wasn’t sure he would make it to the front. Each step looked precarious and painful but he was determined that he was going to receive bread and wine from my father on that special occasion so he persevered. It meant something!

When we share bread and wine in church do we eagerly desire to eat the meal with those we love and serve? We ought to because it means something.

pexels-photo-669730.jpegThis is the point at which my thinking has extended since I wrote the ‘Thought’. You see Jesus “eagerly desired” to share the Passover with the Twelve – his closest friends and his constant companions for the past 3 years. The very next verse in the passage reads:

21 But the hand of him who is going to betray me is with mine on the table.

Jesus shared the meal with Judas – the one he knew had already agreed to betray him. Not only that, he eagerly desired to share the meal with Judas as one of the Twelve, even though he knew that Judas had become disillusioned with him and was going to betray him.

In many churches (and I have done this sometimes) Christians seem to feel the need to either to protect people from sharing in the Lord’s Supper if they are not believers or to protect the Lord’s Supper from people who are not believers (or both). But Jesus was desperate to share this meal with a man whom he knew had decided to become his enemy! Who, or what, are we protecting when we say something like, “If you love Jesus you are welcome to take bread and wine”? And some traditions even exclude you from taking communion unless you can prove you are a Christian! One of the most heartbreaking moments in my ministry was when we had a leader from another sharing in a service in our church and when it came to communion they felt constrained by obedience to their church tradition not to share with us. They had tears running down their face at that moment because they eagerly desired to eat and drink with us.

And with the greatest of respect to those traditions, and even mine, I think we have got it so wrong. This is a meal of welcome, a meal in which an olive-branch of reconciliation is offered, a meal in which even those who feel like enemies are included. It’s also an encounter with the core of the Christian faith – a tangible, tasteable and inspirational connection with Jesus as we are reminded of the extent of his love for us and the extraordinary lengths God went to in order to offer us forgiveness and a fresh start with him. If that is the case, surely we’d want everyone to have that, wouldn’t we?

“Stop right there, you heretic!” I hear you think. Paul, writing to the church in Corinth, tells them that they should be very careful before they eat bread and wine together – there are dire consequences for doing so wrongly (1 Corinthians 11):

27 So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. 28 Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup.

Yup! I completely agree with you. But let’s remember that Paul was writing to a church of Christians about their behaviour, not about the behaviour of people who weren’t Christians. And the “unworthy manner” surely relates to the particular practice he was angry at where rich people ate separately from the poorer people in the church and gorged themselves while the others had meagre rations. Look at the whole of 1 Corinthians 11 (I have added italics to show the aspects of his teaching that all relate to this) and I think you’ll see what I mean.

17 In the following directives I have no praise for you, for your meetings do more harm than good. 18 In the first place, I hear that when you come together as a church, there are divisions among you, and to some extent I believe it. 19 No doubt there have to be differences among you to show which of you have God’s approval. 20 So then, when you come together, it is not the Lord’s Supper you eat, 21 for when you are eating, some of you go ahead with your own private suppers. As a result, one person remains hungry and another gets drunk. 22 Don’t you have homes to eat and drink in? Or do you despise the church of God by humiliating those who have nothing? What shall I say to you? Shall I praise you? Certainly not in this matter!

23 For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: the Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.’ 25 In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.’ 26 For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.

27 So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord. 28 Everyone ought to examine themselves before they eat of the bread and drink from the cup. 29 For those who eat and drink without discerning the body of Christ eat and drink judgment on themselves. 30 That is why many among you are weak and ill, and a number of you have fallen asleep. 31 But if we were more discerning with regard to ourselves, we would not come under such judgment. 32 Nevertheless, when we are judged in this way by the Lord, we are being disciplined so that we will not be finally condemned with the world.

33 So then, my brothers and sisters, when you gather to eat, you should all eat together. 34 Anyone who is hungry should eat something at home, so that when you meet together it may not result in judgment.

Examining ourselves is not about whether or not we are followers of Jesus, it’s about whether our behaviour has excluded some people and is creating or emphasising divisions in the church. Paul suggests that if it is, then even if the elements are right we aren’t actually sharing in the Lord’s Supper!

If you disagree with me, that’s your prerogative. And if I am asked to come to lead a service in your church and that includes leading communion I will try to respect your traditions but I will also want to be as inclusive as possible in the manner of Jesus, whom I follow and serve.

Be blessed, be a blessing.

time for Remembering

clocksFor those leading services on Remembrance Sunday it can be one of the most fraught days of the year. It is not necessarily because of the content but because most services start before or at 11am on the Sunday and we have to incorporate the 2 minutes’ silence at the right time. This requires a level of timing, anticipation, clock-watching and ‘seat of the pants’ ministering that can raise the blood pressure of even the most relaxed of Revs.

This year I was ministering at one of the churches I serve as a Regional Minister. Their service starts at 10am. The first part of the service was led by church members (really thoughtfully and sensitively) and then I stood up to preach. Normally it’s only those listening to me who have an eye on the clock, but this time I was keeping an eye on the time too. I was amused that during the sermon, just as I was reading Psalm 23, the town parade went past the outside of the church with a band playing at the head of the procession. The band stopped playing just as I finished reading the Psalm. I told the church that it was appropriate as the psalms were originally sung to music!

The sermon finished at about 10.45.

That would not normally be a problem with a view to having 2 minutes of silence at 11.00.

But the church also also wanted to share Communion* after the sermon and I wasn’t sure whether we would have time. We also had a song to sing before Communion. I invited people to sing and afterwards I led the church into sharing the bread and wine.  The sermon had been on Jesus saying, “I am the resurrection and the life” and I made a link with that and that he invited his followers to share bread and wine “In remembrance of me”. I broke the bread and shared it with those who were serving and they took it out to the congregation at about 10.50. It’s a large congregation which meant that serving the bread took a while and we finished that at 10.57.

Are you feeling the pressure too?

I knew that we would not be able to serve the wine in 3 minutes so I took the decision to have the 2 minutes’ silence in the middle of Communion. So I introduced what we were going to do and at 11.00 we stood in silence for 2 minutes, after which I read the familiar ‘they shall not grow old’ words and prayed. We then sat and continued with Communion as the wine was served in small cups to each person and we drank together and once again reflected on Jesus who died for us.

After the service lots of people said how much they had appreciated that we did things that way, and few seem to have realised that it was not by my design. And I was blessed by the experience too – I reflected on the act of Remembrance in the light of Communion and Jesus saying, “Greater love has no-one than this, that they lay down their life for their friends.” I reflected on Communion in the light of the act of Remembrance and what it means – more than just keeping a memory alive. The unplanned order of things was very poignant and significant to me.

Reflecting on it all now, a couple of days afterwards, I realise that God often does that… he takes our plans and if they don’t turn out the way we intended he finds a way of speaking in and through the ensuing disruption. So for some of Jesus’ friends who went on a fishing expedition that proved fruitless he turned it into an encounter with him that they would remember for the rest of their lives (John 21). And, if I am honest, that’s so often what inspires me to write bloggages – unexpected moments turn into moments when God speaks to me. Maybe it’s because in those moments I realise that I am not in control and need to reconnect with the One who simply is.

I suppose the question is whether, in the disruption, we try to listen to what God might be saying or whether we are too busy trying to resolve things ourselves.

Be blessed, be a blessing

*Eucharist, Lord’s Supper, Bread and Wine – depending on your tradition

Maunding

(This is another ‘Thought for the week’ that is being shared with EBA Ministers today)

diaryYou may have heard or read Tony Campolo talking about how he was preached off the platform by an old Minister whose theme was “It’s Friday…. but Sunday’s coming!” Tomorrow that theme comes to life (and death). But today it’s Maundy Thursday… but Friday’s coming.

“Maundy” might be derived from Latin ‘Mandatum’ via Old English to mean ‘commandment’ as in ‘A new commandment I give to you: that you love one another as I have loved you.’ Or it might come from Latin ‘Mendicare’ meaning ‘to beg’ – relating to the alms given out by the King before Mass on the Thursday before Easter. The origins of the word are shrouded in mystery. Whatever the origins of the name, Maundy Thursday can seem like a poor relation to the brutal love shown on Good Friday and the resurrection joy of Easter Sunday. It’s can be seen as a prelude to the main event.

And yet…

It was the night when Jesus washed the feet of his friends – feet that had trodden on the palm branches and cloaks on the rode as the accompanied the King on a Donkey, but which were attached to people who were too proud to take the role of a servant (or just thought someone else ought to do it). A night of humility.

It was the night of the Last Supper when Jesus fulfilled and gave new meaning to the Passover – when unleavened bread and wine became a costly feast. A night of remembrance.

It was the night when he ate alongside those who would run away from him, deny knowing him and even betray him with a kiss. A night of fickleness.

It was the night when Jesus sang a hymn with his friends – maybe a setting of Psalm 22? A night of haunting melody.

It was the night when Jesus and his friends went to the Garden of Gethsemane – where he asked them to ‘watch and pray’ and they slept as he agonised. A night of blood, sweat and fears.

It was the night when Jesus prayed in the way that he had taught his friends – honestly, humbly, heroically: “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” A night when the cost was counted.

It was the night when Jesus carried out another healing – repairing the damage Peter had caused with his sword in a valiant but misguided attempt to defend Jesus. A night of grace in the face of hate.

It was the night when he was arrested in secret for fear of the crowds, when the mockery of a trial process began and the trials of a mockery process began. A night of humiliation.

Today, whatever activities you and your churches have planned, don’t discount Maundy Thursday as the warm up act to the main event. It’s when Jesus began to show us how much he loves us and how much we are to love one another. It’s when the King of kings begins to extend his arms for us and to us and offers us his body and blood.

Be blessed, be a blessing

Communion calamities

Warning: if Eucharist / Lord’s Supper / Mass / Communion is something you hold very special and sacred you may want to ignore this bloggage as it contains innocent yet childish irreverence on that theme.

As far back as I can remember I have attended Baptist Churches. First of all because my parents took me, and then later because I choose to. This means that certain things have always been seen through the lens of ‘baptist’. Believer’s Baptism is the obvious example, in contrast to other types of baptism. Another is the way of serving communion…

The first church I attended would serve communion in little individual cups which had little lids on them, on top of which little cubes of bread were placed. As far as I knew this was what every church did. So I was fascinated when I attended my Grandparents’ church, a Brethren Assembly, where communion was very different. The bread was one loaf from which people broke off a chunk as they were served, and they had chalices that were filled from a decanter at the front and each person drank as the chalice was passed to them.

My sister and I discussed this afterwards and we wondered about what would happen if a greedy man attended. So we developed a game at tea time of ‘Dawlish* and the Greedy Man’. We would break off a small piece of bread from our bread and butter and eat it, keeping going until one of us said, “Dawlish and the Greedy Man” at which point we had to cram as much bread into our mouth as possible. It was the same with our drink (although we kept to our own Mr Man mugs). Sip, sip, sip, sip, “Dawlish and the Greedy Man!” Slurp.

It seems that there has been a fateful attraction between me and communion. The first time I had ever seen communion in a church I was watching intently and saw the minister lift up the loaf as he said, “This is my body, broken for you…” As he picked it up I could see that it had been cut about half-way through and turned to my mother with a loud whisper, “Mum, he’s cheating: it’s already cut!” I think that ruined the moment for a lot of people given the sniggers and suppressed giggles.

And so for the rest of my life there has been this fateful attraction.

As a student I had some problems with communion in different churches. In one I thought that the cubes of bread were all under a doily and picked it up only to discover that the bread was between two doilies and I scattered it liberally across the table and the floor. On another occasion I was confronted with a crusty wholemeal loaf that had not been pre-cut at all. I said the words through gritted teeth as I tried to tear the bread. Sally was sitting a long way back and could see the whites of my knuckles as I wrestled with the loaf.

The worst moment was in my first church when I discovered that the middle of the loaf was missing altogether and all I had were some crusts that had been pushed together. A young lad had been roaming the church beforehand and had got hungry… then he tried to cover his tracks. I carried on as well as I could and sent the crusts out to the congregation while my mind tried to work out what had happened. I only found out afterwards.

I confided in some friends in the church and we had a chuckle. The next time I served communion I made the mistake of catching the eye of one of them as I picked up the loaf and had to suppress a smile that would have erupted into laughter.

I have also on one occasion said, “In the same way after cuppa…”

If I did not know better I would say that God is getting his own back for the irreverence of ‘Dawlish and the Greedy Man’ and my loud whisper about the status of the bread. But God is not like that. He is gracious, forgiving, generous, kind, merciful. He does not ‘get his own back’. Rather he offers his own son to provide us with a fresh start.

That does not mean, however, that he did not find my difficulties funny. That does not mean that he did not see the irony of the situation. I believe he takes me far more seriously than I take myself, and at the same time sees far more humour in our life than we could ever imagine. There’s a set of images produced by USPG and CMS called ‘The Christ We Share’ which are pictures and sculptures of Jesus from across the world and different eras. It’s an amazing resource to contemplate. But the image that I love most is the one hereThe Laughing Christ: Jesus laughing. I imagine him having a laugh with his friends, telling jokes, enjoying funny stories. I also imagine him looking me in the same way that parents of toddlers do – enjoying their attempts at emulating their parents but also finding them very funny.

Be blessed, be a blessing. 

*Where my Grandparents attended church

spiritual landmarks

If you look back over your life what significant events do you remember? What are the highlights? What are the days that are etched firmly in your memory as significant moments?*

This coming weekend has the potential for awesomeness because it is full of such events.

On Saturday I will be conducting a wedding at our church. We do not have very many weddings at our church in a year so they are always very special occasions. On Sunday we will be holding two separate services of Believer’s Baptism: one in the morning and one in the evening, and another local churches using the pool in the afternoon to baptise some of their members. and in the morning service we will also be celebrating communion and welcoming more new members into the church.

I love the way that people can celebrate significant moments in their life in the church – it is wonderful that our church family can be the context for such significant moments that are landmarks in people’s lives. These are some of the moments that I love and cherish as a minister and I hope will be moments that these brothers and sisters in Jesus will also cherish. I hope and pray that they will be wonderfully joyful, exciting, encouraging times for everyone, especially those getting married, baptised and welcomed into membership (different people).

Without diminishing any of what I have just said I also want to point out that these spiritual landmarks are not normal life. They are not the everyday occurrence. Those who are married do not live every day as if it is their wedding day. Those who have been baptised do not get immersed in water in a church each morning. Those were welcomed into membership are not welcomed into membership each time we share communion.

But those occasions can also remind us of when they happened for us. Weddings remind me of my wedding, baptising people reminds me of my own baptism, welcoming people into membership reminds me of my own membership in this church. And remembering those spiritual landmarks helps us in the normal everyday life. We can get distracted and embedded in routine and everyday activities and forget those amazing moments that have occurred.

Mountain TopIf you read the Old Testament narrative you will find that often places were renamed or altars were built where significant encounters with God had happened. These were to be tangible reminders of God’s presence and involvement in people’s lives. They were reminders of God’s covenant promise to his people. people would see the altar or remember the name of the place and be reminded of God and his involvement in their lives. Whilst we do not do that today in the same way there are spiritual landmarks that can serve the same purpose. 

In each of the three different events this weekend, promises will be made. The happy couple will make promises to each other in the sight of God. Those being baptised will make promises to God. Those being welcomed into membership will make promises to the church and the church will make promises to them. We can all use such occasions to remind ourselves of the promises we have made in the past and renew our intention to keep them. And most of all we can remember how we encountered God and all that he has done for us. And those promises and memories are for the every day, normal life.

And that is where the fourth event that I mentioned at the start is full of godly awesomeness: sharing bread and wine with fellow believers reminds us of Jesus’ death and resurrection and all that that means for you and for me is a regular reminder of God’s amazing love.

Be blessed, be a blessing.

*Apologies to anyone who read the earlier version which was done with my speech unrecognition software!

costly communion

During a visit to Oxford my wife Sally went to a the Christian bookshop and came out with a book that is full of the theology for me. ‘When Clergymen Ruled the Earth‘ by Simon Jenkins is a book of cartoons based around church life, and particularly ministers/vicars.

I’ve been enjoying some of them this morning and one of them reminded me of an experience I had back in September, here it it is:

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It depicts a scene that is very different to communion in most Baptist Churches, where traditionally the bread and wine is served to the congregation where they are seated in the pews.

The event that this cartoon reminded me of was my father’s ordination. In September he was ordained as a priest in the Church of England, and the service concluded with communion where the members of the congregation came forward (without the signs and traffic cones) to receive communion from those who are serving at the front.

I was sitting near the front of the church and it was served relatively early on. Once I had resumed my seat I was able to watch others as they came to receive the bread and wine. One man in particular caught my eye. He had serious mobility problems and was struggling even to walk to the front of the church. But he was determined that he was going to receive bread and wine so he made his way forward with the help of a friend. At the communion rail it was evident that he was going to struggle to kneel down and it seemed that his friend suggested he stand to receive the elements. He was having none of it. With a great deal of courage and obvious pain he knelt at the rail and held out his hands to receive the bread and then was served with the wine. It then took a considerable effort by the man and his friend to getting back onto his feet, and he struggled his way back to his pew.

I was seriously impressed by him. He was someone for whom receiving bread and wine was an important part of his life. He was not going to miss out under any circumstances, no matter what it cost him.

It made me reconsider how casually I sometimes come to receive bread and wine. I find communion one of the most moving parts of a church service, and gladly receive it with a sense of awe and wonder. But it doesn’t cost me anything and I wonder if that man appreciated what the bread and wine represent, the cost of Jesus’ sacrifice, much more because of how much it cost him to be there.

Do we sometimes make Jesus too accessible? I’ll leave that is something for you to consider…

Be blessed, be a blessing

a tale of three meals

I have eaten three significant meals in immediate succession…

Last night I sat in the congregation. It’s not very often that I get to do this, without any involvement in a service, but the service at Colchester Baptist Church last night was led by one of our members and the sermon was preached by a fellow minister from another Baptist church in Colchester (thanks Steve). Steve also led us in sharing Communion together. the Baptist ‘liturgy’ (if we would ever admit to having one) is fairly simple, yet last night I had a shiver go down my spine as I heard the familiar words from 1 Corinthians 13 and the phrase “for you” became very prominent to me.

This morning I gathered with fellow Christians from Colchester at the site of one of the earliest Christian churches in the country: dating from the first half of the fourth century AD. It is St Helena’s Day today and it is believed she founded that church. She was also the mother of the first Christian Roman Emperor, Constantine, and is the adopted saint of the town of Colchester. A statue of her sits on the top of the Town Hall, as she faces towards Jerusalem holding a cross aloft. That cross is the highest point in the town. At the church (picture from Peter Herring, one of the service is below) we shared Communion together, led by the Bishop of Colchester. The liturgy was a little more formal than last night, but it was moving nonetheless: made poignant by the sound of the traffic going alongside us and the presence of a police station adjacent to the site of the church.

I reflected briefly on the fact that some of the cells were next to us, and Jesus would have been placed in a holding cell at some stage during his arrest, trial and before his crucifixion. But what struck me most this morning was the phrase Jesus uttered on the cross (and one I mentioned yesterday morning in my sermon): the astonishing prayer on behalf of his tormentors, enemies and executioners, “Father, forgive them.” It became very personal to me at that moment – I am one of the ‘them’ for whom he sought forgiveness.

The third meal took place afterwards when some of those who had been at the early morning communion shared breakfast at CO1, which is in Trinity Church – a mere 1000 year old church building in the heart of Colchester. What felt significant was how friends from different churches and different traditions could eat together and enjoy one another’s company. I am both a strong denominationalist (a Christian who is of a Baptist persuasion by conviction) and a strong ecumaniac (once describing myself as ‘ecumenically promiscuous’ – I will work with anyone for the sake of the Gospel). But this morning, perhaps because the first meal we shared together, we were brothers and sisters in Christ who were eating together.

I think that there is something very significant about eating together. That is one reason why I think Communion is so significant both personally and missionally. It is not only a meal of remembrance or commemoration, it is a moment of encounter where the reality of God’s love, the visceral encounter with forgiveness is made real by the tangible bread and wine. I think that as we eat together we recognise our common humanity: we all need to eat to survive. What unites us becomes more important than what divides us.

At a recent Church Meeting it was suggested that we should be more hospitable: inviting people into our homes. If that means we eat together, then ‘Amen’ and ‘Hallelujah’!

Be blessed, be a blessing.

Poor Sid had fallen on hard times. He lost his job, his wife had left him, his benefits had been stopped, and he was evicted from his home. He packed what little he had in a rucksack, made a little sign that read “Will work for food” and set off down the road on foot.

Towards the middle of the day, he came to a farmhouse. He was getting very hungry, and so he knocked on the front door. A woman answered, and Sid explained his situation, and how he could do most anything and how hungry he was.

At first the woman wanted nothing to do with Sid, but he persisted. Finally she asked “Are you any good at painting and decorating?”

“Oh yes, ma’am,” Sid said, “I can paint. I’ve done a lot of painting. Just let me show you. I won’t let you down.”

The woman relented, found a can of paint and a brush and said, “You go around back and paint the porch, and I’ll give you some lunch.”

Happily, Sid went to work.

An hour later Sid knocked on the front door.

“Are you finished so soon?” asked the woman.

“Oh yes,” said Sid, “but I think you ought to know that it’s a Mercedes, not a Porsche.”