By Ken Lass
Ken Lass, Tribune Columnist
It was Sunday morning and I was sitting anxiously in the front pew of a Birmingham area Baptist church. I don’t normally sit in the front pew. It’s a little scary up there. I always feel as though the preacher is looking right at me. Like, at any moment, he’s going to call me out by name in front of everybody and ask me some deep theological question. No, it’s much safer in the back pews. Besides, I have my own usual area where I sit. Me and all the other regulars. Sure, visitors are welcome. I don’t mind moving and making room for them. I don’t mind. Really I don’t. Do I?
Anyway, this particular Sunday was different. This was not my church. I was the visitor here. I was in the front pew because I had been invited to preach the message at this service. The church was having a series of guest speakers and this was my week. So there I was, patiently watching the worship leader direct the flock in song. I had been instructed that the final hymn was “How Great Thou Art”. The end of that sweet old refrain was to be my cue to climb up to the lectern and begin. I don’t really feel qualified to preach in a church. Heaven knows I am not what you would call a great Christian role model. But I figured God wouldn’t bring me this opportunity, just to have me turn it down. So I had worked hard preparing my message. I even rehearsed it in front of the mirror a few times. I was ready…