...About the Preacher and the Flood

In the small town of Elizabethtown, called "Etown," in upstate New York, there was a transplanted preacher. When I say he was transplanted, I mean that he was originally from the South. He was one of those "Hell & Damnation, Fire & Brimstone" kinda country preachers.

Now if you've never witnessed one of these types of preachers, it is an eye-opening, seat-riveting, "cheek-clinching" experience - something one might call a "knitting needle of a moment." I'm neither knocking nor endorsing one religion over another, I'm just sayin'. You generally find one of these preachers in a place like The Antioch Freewill Southern Baptist Church of Smuteye, Alabama. It is a sermon filled with Bible-thumping, Bible-waving, Bible-banging, and a red-in-the-face, short-of-breath, no-pauses-in-his-delivery chastising for the sins of the church members. It might go a little like this:
"...And we must leeaarrnnn, uh-huh, that the way of the Loooord, uh huh, is the pathwayyyy, uh huh, that we must folloooowww, uh huh, to get into those Heavenly gaaaaaates, uh huh, to see the face of the Looooooord, uh huh, and that He will not entertaaaiiiin, uh huh, a meeting with thoooooose, uh huh, who have the committed the siiiiiin, uh huh, of the liquor..." 
And, of course, every statement is loudly approved by "A-meyen!"      But... I digress!

So this preacher had been transplanted to Etown, some rumored because of a transgression that had been brought out into the light making it time to "hear God's calling and move up yonder to save those devil-filled souls up North."
After one of those particularly normal winters with 3-4 feet of snow, the Spring thaw brought the expected flooding. And so this preacher found himself witnessing quite a rising of the waters. As the waters rose, the preacher was on his front porch. The steps were covered with moving water lapping at the porch. A local man waded by in his chest waders pulling a john boat with a rope. The man sees the preacher on his porch and comes over and says, "C'mon, Preacher, climb in and I'll get you to high ground."
The arrogant preacher tells the man, "I don't need you! The Lord will take care of me!"
And so the man walked along his way.

A bit later, the preacher is on his roof, the water now moving faster and lapping at the eaves. Another man in a motor boat comes to the preacher and says, "Climb in, Preacher! We've got to get you outta here!"
To which the preacher again replies, "You can go, I don't need you! The Lord will take care of me!"
And the man motors away.

Some time passes, and the preacher is perched on the top of his chimney, water rushing around his ankles. A helicopter hovers overhead, drops a rope ladder and the speaker blares, "Grab the ladder, Preacher! We'll save you!"
The unflappable preacher shakes his fist and yells, "Be on your way! The Lord will take care of me!"
And the helicopter moves off in the wind.

In a little while, the preacher is at the Pearly Gates with St. Peter demanding to speak with the Lord. In a flash of light, the Lord is standing in front of the preacher. "What is it, my son?"
The preacher says, "Lord, I had faith in you that the waters were not to hurt me. I have been a good servant, and saved the souls of the people in Etown, but you let me be swallowed up by the floods. Why, Lord?"
The Lord looks at the preacher and says, "I sent you two boats and a helicopter - what else did you want?!"

At least, that's how they tell the story.


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