The Preacher Came To Supper

We were still living on Folly Mountain in early 1940.  Father was plowing with the horses and a one‑furrow plow.  The church was at the end of our property.

 

A car was parked in the yard and a man was talking to my father.  After the man left, father began plowing near the house.  I was in the yard playing, and he said, “Leslie, I asked the minister to supper so go tell your mother that Rev. Robinson is coming for supper”.  It wasn’t “dinner” as we call it today, it was “supper”.

 

It was about 3 p.m. so I went into the house to tell my mother that Rev. Robinson was coming to supper.  It was the middle of the week and, at any time, there was never much in the house.  Usually we went to the store on weekends.  In those days, we had no car and we travelled first class by horse and buggy.  There was no MacDonald’s in those days or even a Convenience Store.  Mother was devastated and asked me to get down and look in the cupboard for some tomato soup.  I believe I found two cans of soup.

 

Having been in that position many times as a minister, I know Rev. Robinson enjoyed his supper, or at least he said he did and ministers are always supposed to tell the truth!  I wish you could have been there that night.  Rev. Robinson sat at the head of the table wearing his clergy collar and black vest, and my father wearing a suit coat over a white shirt and tie.  With my mother, my brother, Layton, and I, there were five of us in all, and with the preacher there, my brother and I had to be on our best behaviour.

 

Many years later, I remember preaching one Sunday in Ontario, and then we were invited to have dinner with a family of nine.  With the minister, and three of us, there were thirteen at the table.  I remembered the dinner with the minister at our home years before, but this time there was no tomato soup!

 

Romans 12: 13 (LB)

When God`s children are in need, be the one to help them out.  And get into the habit of inviting guests home for dinner or, if they need lodging, for the night.

 

Written by Rev. Leslie Jobb