No, I did not kill Billy Mays.
I did not know that the famous infomercial pitchman had died unexpectedly when I mentioned him during Sunday's sermon. True, I had not planned on mentioning him -- though the image of Billy Mays pitching Jesus is certainly intriguing -- but it certainly seemed appropriate given the sermon title and subject matter.
Now even my mother has requested that I not mention her by name during future sermons, as have many others.
I suppose that this is one way to make my sermons shorter. If I can't mention anyone by name, I might stop mentioning people altogether. Or maybe I can only mention people by name after everyone knows they're dead. But how long do I have to wait before I can talk about them after they are dead? And if I have to wait for people to die before I can talk about them by name, what am I supposed to do about Jesus?
These are the things no one explains to ministers before they become ministers. Eerie things will happen in your sermons from time to time. You'll talk about someone, only to find out later that something terrible has happened to them, such as suffering a pulmonary embolism. Or you'll make a passing joke about football loyalties, only to accurately predict the outcome of the Super Bowl three months in advance (Nov. 2006). Is it coincidence? Is it the Holy Spirit? Is it the spirit of someone's bookie?
Who knows? Needless to say, I imagine that I will not stop mentioning people during my sermons. And frankly, I'm not sorry that I mentioned Billy Mays on Sunday, though I'm saddened by the untimely death of anyone.
I had a friend in college who earned a ton of money selling knives while he was in college, which is how Billy Mays got his start as a pitchman. My friend turned away from sales, though. Now he's a Catholic priest. (That's not a joke -- he was ordained in May.)
And Paul was a pitchman too, except that his product was in no way a gimmick. He was offering people something that would dramatically improve their lives. Often, he was reaching out to people (Gentiles) who were not predisposed to understand what he was talking about, which meant that he first needed to show what the problem (lives of sin) before he could demonstrate the solution (redemption). The analogy could be pushed too far, but it's fair to say that Paul always used himself as a model recipient of Christ's love.
I don't think that Paul ever offered to double the offer if they called in the next ten minutes, though. Just pay shipping and handling.... (If Paul had thought of it, he probably would have used it. Of course, can you imagine how much shipping and handling would have run you in Paul's day?)
I hope that I've cleared that up.
What? You have another question?
[listening to question]
No, there's not another camp I can go to this week. You're stuck with me here.
