A better yodeling contest

This morning I was very late for church. This is not unlike me, but it is unlike me to come in sorely and conspicuously late, even after the sermon. But that's how things have been going recently–I'm often so late to events that I just decide to turn around and drive home.

I think back to school, when some professors actually addressed the subject of lateness in the syllabus, or mentioned it on the first day of class. They would say something like, "If you don't have enough respect to arrive on time, I would prefer you not come at all." And I would instantly see where they're coming from, because I don't respect people who come in halfway through class either. I mean, how would they feel if they were the professor? The early bird gets the worm, you know? If you snooze, you lose.

So this morning I was really thinking about leaving, but instead I decided to pull up a chair in the narthex and look in through the sanctuary doors. The only thing left was communion, and I decided I'd better not even bother. I hunched down in my chair, listening to the organ and thinking about how pointless it was to come like this.

But halfway though the song I heard one of the sanctuary doors swing open and one of the ushers suddenly emerged to serve me the bread and quickly went back in. It seemed really bizarre to me, like some kind of fluke or mistake. If the ushers had served the late narthex people in the past, I hadn't noticed it. I didn't think I particularly deserved being served, and I hardly knew the particular usher, so (whether logical or not) I was thinking he would forget me the second time. But a few minutes later he came out again.

I was sitting there thinking about this, when I saw something else I'd never noticed before. At my church the narthex and the sanctuary are divided by ancient-looking oak panels that come together in what looks like a rather imposing permanent wall. I don't usually pay attention to this, but the panels are actually removable.

As the communion music ended, the ushers quietly began changing the scene like experienced stage workers. One by one, the oak panels were carried away. Even a portable screen, which had been set up for a presentation before the service, was folded up and pushed aside. In less than a minute I could see straight into the sanctuary.

Folks, it's nearly Groundhog Day again, that time of year when we all celebrate the ability of a large rodent to accurately forecast the end of winter. It seems to me that the groundhog can inspire all of us, everyone, to work up the courage to look at our own shadows. So, please, everyone, everywhere, go out tomorrow morning and look for your shadow. Then, come back here and report what you saw.

Unfortunately, I don't know of any Groundhog Day carols to get you in the mood for this important holiday. Perhaps the best one could think to do is watch the movie and ponder the timeless question.

Of course this being a blog, I must also post several partially relevant links. Otherwise they take away my blogging license:

• Color the groundhog's shadow! Note: also comes in no shadow version.
• Visit the groundhog's official site, review shadows of years past and wait for this year's forecast to roll in!
• Consult the Internet Oracle for an answer to the timeless question!