"Pep" is the Church member who pitch hits for Jesus when the Minister-of-Music or Preacher Johnson's not available because God needs them elsewhere.
The entire congregation loves it when this happens because "Pep" is a Hell-of-a-lot better than Orvis Crump or "Fireball Johnson" at leading the music AND preaching!
We're in the new Sanctuary, with Teal colored padded pews, tall stained glass windows that aren't mosaics or Biblical pictures, parents dressed in Sunday's best and us teenagers dying to be free loving Hippies sitting on the back rows.
"There's this story," Pep begins with his booming baritone voice. "It's about a boy named Harry. Nobody liked Harry! He was awkward ... fat ... face full of pimples ... his clothes didn't fit right ... and he had a ... peculiar aroma."
Pep smiles the entire time he says these things.
I have my hand on Marsha Gnann's leg on the next to the last row but ... it's Pep preaching so I'm listening too.
"It was time for the annual Church Christmas pageant," he booms from the Pulpit, "and there wasn't a part for Harry. Honestly, nobody wanted him to be in the play at all ... but he quietly sat there waiting to be assigned a part."
"It made everyone else mad. Why couldn't he just go away? He'll ruin the pageant, they whispered."
"Let him be the Innkeeper," someone suggested. "He only has to say "NO" when asked if there's any room in the Inn."
"So that's what they did," Pep gravely explains, no longer smiling, looking down.
"So there they were ... Shepherds tending their flock ... tiny Angel's singing 'Silent Night, Holy Night' ... Joseph and Mary looking for a place to stay ... and they walk up to the Inn and knock on the door ... and pimply faced Harry, reeking of whatever, answers the door."
"Can we stay here?" Joseph asks.
"No," Harry says perfectly ... so Joseph grabs Mary and turns away ... and Harry watches as his lip quivers ... and as the Holy Couple make their way ... tears fill the Innkeeper's eyes ... and he wipes them fast ... along with the snot on his nose ... until he screams ... "WAIT! DON'T GO! YOU CAN HAVE MY BED! STAY HERE! I'LL SLEEP ON THE FLOOR!"
It was over 40 years ago this actually happened.
I've never forgotten ... can still feel it ... the dead come back to life today.
"A lot of people," Pep softly concludes, " believe Harry ruined the Christmas pageant that year ... but ... there are those ... who believe he saved it."
"What do you believe?" Pep ends and sits down in Preacher Johnson's throne of a chair.
Yesterday, Governors and other Believers issued orders as Christmas approaches that our Inns are full this year. Put your pregnant wife on your ass and haul her away. We don't want your kind. Savage Muslims!
So that's peace on earth ... for what it's worth.
"What do you believe?" Pep still asks all these years later.
