It was perhaps one of the most embarrassing moments of my life: Easter, 2003.
That year, I was chosen to be the narrator in our church’s Easter production. To prepare for the event, I had grown a full beard and dressed in full Biblical costume.
In the middle of the final production, when Jesus was arrested, tried, and crucified, I left the stage for about 15 minutes because I didn’t have any lines. During this interval, I wanted to go to our Media Production Room to watch the production on the television monitors. On my way there, I passed by our prop room and noticed a Keystone Cop hat we had used in one of our productions that year. I thought it would be funny to put that hat on and walk into the Media Room where several of our other staff were gathered.
I was right. When I walked into the Media Room with the tall, pointed hat on my head, I got big laughs. I left it on while I watched the Easter play on the monitor. Suddenly I realized they were saying the line that was my cue to walk onstage. I rushed out of the Media Room and sprinted to the stage to deliver my lines. It was a pivotal point of the production: Joseph of Arimethea and Nicodemus were carrying the body of Jesus to the tomb.
I began to deliver my lines: “Joseph of Arimethea and Nicodemus took the body of Jesus and placed it in Joseph’s own tomb…” At that moment, I noticed that Michael Winslow, the drummer in the orchestra, was looking at me with a strange expression. The orchestra pit was directly in front of the stage where I was standing, so I couldn’t help but notice his stare. I don’t read minds very well, so I had no idea what he was thinking. I could tell something wasn’t right, but I kept speaking my lines.
I looked down. Michael was still staring at me, but now his mouth was open and his eyebrows were furrowed in disgust. I was a little irritated with him. I was certain I was saying my lines perfectly. After all, this was our fourth performance, and I had them down pat.
About a minute into my lines, it hit me. I thought, Oh, no! I looked up out of the corner of my eye at the video screen on the wall. It revealed exactly what Michael—and everyone else in the congregation—was seeing. I was still wearing the Keystone Cop hat! I was mortified, but I kept right on delivering my lines. I thought about taking it off, but that would call even more attention to it. I thought about running off stage, but I had to finish. I couldn’t just quit.
For your viewing pleasure, here is actual VIDEO from this disastrous moment in my life. Watch carefully as you see the moment I look to the screen and realize what had happened!!
I would like to say, “Thank you!” to my Senior Pastor, Rod Loy. He was VERY gracious and forgiving. It took a while, but we were eventually able to laugh at this moment. I learned a HUGE lesson! To check out the MAJOR lesson that I learned, read this post. You can also read about MORE blunders in my book, “I Blew It!”