The Backrow Conspiracy

Such a devious plan we concocted one day. Kind of mischievous in an ornery way. The goal was to throw an innocent curve, knock people off the routine that they serve. We showed up early to church that morning, with no indication, without prior warning. Some surely thought we had set our clocks wrong. We’d never shown up before the first song. The early-to-risers were there hanging out. No clue what our sinister scheme was about. We brought doughnuts to share in reception hall, a diversionary tactic that served as a stall. It worked to perfection, they didn’t even know. We ran to the sanctuary and filled the back row. A peace calmed the room, as we eagerly waited. A family connection was somehow created. They came in together, the back-row-brigade, bewildered to discover the prank we had played. The looks on their faces was priceless to see. How could this happen? How could this be? Glancing around, with their smiles now erased, they weighed their dilemma, feeling displaced. “They’ve taken our seats,” one gruffly replied, as they shuffled back out to regroup and decide. We burst out laughing over what we had done, then moved up one row after having our fun. As they sauntered back in, to their cheerful delight, somehow the world had again been made right. Sliding into the row, one leaned up and said, “Thank you for putting that thought in our head. We've taken for granted our comfortable place. God wants us moving and sharing His grace.” Our newfound friends still claim the back pew. At times we bring doughnuts, to see what they’ll do. What started as a joke was a blessing in disguise, the Sunday we took the back-row by surprise. The Back row Conspiracy, was the brainchild of my wacky youth leader, Mont Toon. His unusual ways had a way of drawing kids in, then showing them the way. I’m not sure where I’d have been without his influence. I’m sure he’s stirring up something in heaven at this moment.