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Inside the mind of a 3-year-old preacher
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I have a guest columnist this week — my Mom.

Sometimes when I write these columns, she writes back to me with comments about memories, particularly memories of when I was growing up. In one column, I wrote about how when I was 3 years old, my parents were teaching me to say “sir” and “ma’am.” We had just finished a trip in the car, and Dad said, “Get out, Bobby!” I wanted to continue riding, and I blurted out defiantly, “No!” Startled by my negative response, my Dad demanded, “What did you say?” I thought quickly about the lessons I had learned in etiquette, and I replied, “No, sir!”

Retelling that story prompted a response from Mom. Here are a few of her thoughts:

“When you were about 3 years old, we were having dinner with my parents at Oak Grove (Mississippi) and a lot of family members were there. You wanted to say the blessing. You blessed everybody, then you started on blessing the food, dish by dish. ‘Thank you for the turkey, thank you for the cranberry sauce, etc., etc.’ After a while, some snickers were being heard, so when you took a breath, I said ‘Amen.’ You said, ‘But I’m not through, Mama!’ The laughter could not be suppressed.

“When you were little, about 3, I think, you asked me what angels did all day, did they just fly around naked? I can’t remember how I answered.”

Well, Mom, you know, inquiring preachers’ kids want to know these things. How are we going to find out if we don’t ask? Too often, people just swallow whatever they’re told in church, rather than checking it out for themselves. That’s like swallowing already chewed food. Personally, I’d rather chew it myself. That’s why I’ve always admired the Christians mentioned in Acts 17:11 who, after they heard the apostle Paul preach, “examined the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so.” They weren’t afraid to ask questions.

Maybe they even asked about naked angels. I wonder if they found out what those angels do...

(Copyright 2011 by Bob Rogers. Email: Read this column each Friday in the Herald. Read old “Holy Humor” columns by visiting and clicking on “Holy Humor.”)