Wednesday was a really good day.
My preaching professor had invited me to be the preacher at this week's Wednesday chapel at my seminary.
Fine enough, right? I mean, I preach all the time. Of course, I'd be preaching in Christian, which is my second language. No, actually, it's probably about 5th, after Ubbi Dubbi, Pagan, and French. Hubbi, mon magick ami!
But to make it more of a challenge, I've been pushing myself to preach sans manuscript. I had a one page outline on a lectern, but I mostly did the roaming preaching, walking down closer to the congregation.
And I preached fairly charismatic, as that's the most-spoken language of my classmates.
Sitting in the front row before going forward, it was a surprise when I got up and faced the audience to find that every professor and the school president were there. Manuscript! Manuscript!
What a blast. Now this is the kind of roller coaster I could get into.
I received some really nice comments afterward, including one from my favorite professor, a soft-spoken man of few words, none of them hyperbole. "You were good," he said in that way that some people have that just has a particularly satisfying ring for all its simplicity.
So, a powerful affirmation of what I want to do.
(Next week I'll see the video and will come plummeting back to earth, but let me glide for now.)
What made it 100% good? I did not preach anything I did not believe wholeheartedly. I used some language not often heard in a UU church -- convicted, Holy Spirit, God, humility -- but it was all me, baby.
Me. The Uni-costal.