In the name of the Father, the Son, and into the hole she goes!

Everyone’s favorite death story at the Fairfield Mennonite Church, however, is the time I fell into a grave. It happened early in my ministry when there was still a great flap about ordaining women. It was March and it had rained for weeks. As I began the graveside service , the ground collapsed under me and I slid into the grave. Calmly, the mortician (who looked like someone out of the Adams Family) pulled me out by my coat collar. Covered in red clay, trying to keep a straight face, I conducted the interment service, hearing in my head the words “in the name of the Father, the Son, and into the hole she goes!”

Once home I said to my husband. “You’ll never believe what happened to me today. I fell into the grave.” He just looked at me, then quipped,” well, that should take care of any critics of women’s ordination. After all, who can challenge one who has returned from the grave!”

Excerpt from a Sermon by Joyce Shutt

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