When I first started serving my present church, I thought it might help attendance at the early service to preach on the floor without a pulpit. At that time, we had fewer than fifty people in that service, and preaching with just my Bible would offer a better connection and a less formal atmosphere. I would memorize most of my message, stand in front of the center row, and hold forth, as they say. 

One Sunday, it seemed like I held everyone’s attention. As the sermon progressed, I saw more and more people nodding, some quite vigorously. People could not seem to take their eyes off me. I had thought the sermon was good when I prepared it; I was not prepared for the eloquence of my words to engage everyone. 

The crowd that attended the early service was older. I learned much later in life that certain bodily functions required them to rise early. Since they were already up, they would get ready and come to church. Sometimes that meant they would fall asleep during the message as they settled into an early morning nap. 

But not this Sunday. For a full thirty minutes, every eye followed me. The head nodding became more vigorous. As the sermon drew to a close, I thought one man’s head was about to pop off his neck; he was nodding so hard. 

I prayed, then gave the invitation. Everyone stood for the invitation hymn. As the first notes were sung, Mrs. Hannah Seymour, a matriarch of the church, stepped into the aisle. I was amazed; my sermon had spoken to this woman of great Christian virtue. God was surely on the move. 

Miss Hannah reached for my hand, then pulled me close. She began to whisper. I wondered if she was about to confess some deep secret sin or to tell me that God had spoken deeply to her about her service to him. Miss Hannah was from the farm community of Graham and spoke with a syrupy Southern accent that was not lost in her whisper: “Pastor, your zipper is down.” 

In a flash, things came together. I had gone to the bathroom right before the service. In my haste to get into the worship center, I failed to check that vital component of my wardrobe. Now I understood why my Methodist and Presbyterian brothers and sisters wore robes. Now I understood the nodding during the sermon. One deacon shared with me later, “I was trying to communicate to you to zip it up!”  Now I understood why every eye was upon me. People did not want to miss any further wardrobe malfunctions. 

What do you do when you receive such a message? I thanked Miss Hannah. As she returned to her seat, I motioned to the pianist and organist to stop the music. Then I spoke words I had said before, but this time, with a different intention: “I want everyone to bow their heads, close their eyes. No one needs to be looking around.”  A few people resisted. They knew this was not a spiritual moment. It was a moment of dignity preservation. I made eye contact with these people and spoke again, “Again, every eye closed, no one looking around. Let’s create a zone of privacy to hear from the Lord.”  I was hearing from the Lord to zip up my zipper.  

Finally, the last holdout grinned and bowed his head. I said, “Listen to the Lord speak to you.” I grabbed the tab of my zipper and zipped. What I had not counted on was my mic being so sensitive. It picked up the sound: “ZZZZZZZZZZip.”  Giggles broke out.   

I said “Amen,” pronounced a benediction, and went to my customary place by the back door. Everyone was understanding. Several people told me if Miss Hannah had not gone forward, they were about to. No one was injured, just my pride and a little bit of my dignity. 

To this day, I am grateful for Miss Hannah. She knew I needed to hear the truth, even if it made me uncomfortable. Hearing the truth would spare me from a great loss of dignity and more embarrassment later.   

Who in your life can tell you the truth? Not just the truth that those pants don’t really go with that shirt. Who can tell you that you are acting immature? Who can tell you your temper hurts people?   

Who has permission to ask you uncomfortable questions? Who can ask you if your prayer life is vital? Who can ask you if you have a secret you are trying to hide from God? Who can ask you if you are faithful in giving? 

You need someone in your life to tell you the truth or to ask you questions that help you see the truth. Don’t let anyone volunteer for the job. Instead, ask God to send you that person.   

When Proverbs says there is a friend that is closer than a brother, I think it is talking about the kind of friend who will tell you the truth, even if the truth is your zipper is down.