I had a funeral this morning, and I wanted everything to be just right -- just right for the family of a lovely woman from my parish. She was the kind of person who did everything just right -- from beautiful gardens to generous holiday dinners to baking with her granddaughters. We had the communion table set just right and the flowers arranged just right and the hymns picked. I had taken time to set up extra mikes for a soloist/guitarist, and that worked out just right, too. The sister-in-law, who gave a eulogy said just the right words.
My wireless mike: stopped working just at the beginning of the service. I heard lots of crackling and the sound went in and out for awhile. I decided to give the sermon at the lecturn. I thought at first I had simply run out of battery, but the funeral director came in with a replacement at the Sermon Hymn, and that didn't work. Then, before communion, my communion assistant came in with several possible replacements, none of which worked. I presided loudly.
Brilliant, no? Technology is not my strong suit.
After the service, we had a delicious lunch in our fellowship hall. Everything was just right, from the chicken salald to the croissants to the varieties of bars. I went into my office to prepare for the committal service. When I looked up, it was night. Or so it seemed. The sky was totally black. I went back into the narthex, where the wind was howling, the sirens were blowing, and clusters of people were looking out the doors, worried. There were severe thunderstorms, with torrential rains and wind. This was right about the time we were supposed to leave for the cemetery. It was a little scarier than you want it to be for a funeral.
Later on, as the skies calmed, a small group of us made our way to the cemetery. And somehow, despite everything, it still turned out just right.