The parson sat at the table with the Nominations Committee members, working on a new organizational structure for the church and deciding who would be best fitted to fill each position.
“How about the Worship Coordinator?” the parson asked.
“Well, I think we ought to consider Edna Harrington for that position,” said Rhonda Flemming.
“I was going to suggest Edna for Evangelism,” intoned Gilbert Collins, “and to put Henry Forest down to coordinate worship.”
“I have to agree that Edna would be good for Evangelism, Gilbert,” said Harriett Smithers. “But, well I don’t want to throw a monkey wrench into things but Doris Matthers would love to be the Coordinator of Worship.”
The parson buried his face in his hands a moment.
“Parson, are you okay?” asked Rhonda.
“How old is Edna Harrington?” the parson asked.
The people around the table looked at each other. Finally, Gilbert said, “Well, she’s my aunt’s age, so she’s seventy-eight.”
“Exactly,” said the parson, “and how old do you think Doris Matthers is?”
“Oh, Doris is eighty-two,” said Albert Williams who had been quiet until now.
“What do you suppose is the average age of people who have joined the church this past year?” the parson asked.
The table immersed itself in debate. Eventually the members decided the average age of the new members was somewhere in the mid-forties.
“The church is attracting people in their mid-forties and you folks want the church to be run by people with one foot in the grave. Do you think there’s a message there? So, why don’t we just start this meeting over from the start? Albert, will you begin the meeting with prayer?”
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