Those awful tears of a tortured Jimmy Swaggart.

Rest in Peace

Just heard that Jimmy Swaggart died today.

Many years ago, while a pastor in New Orleans I was asked to officiate at a graveside service at a cemetery near Airline Highway. Definitely off the beaten path, but one of the few places that people who wanted to be buried underground could choose in New Orleans back then.

Until I drove to the service I had never been out that way; as I recall I did not know the person very well who was being buried. Might’ve been one of those rent a pastor deals; you know a special – carnations, casket, clergy! $999.95. In any case the pastor made much less than the funeral people or the florist. People like deals even at death.

Not making fun of anyone’s grief. The joke here is on me.

As I got into the reading of scripture and the prayers and the opportunity for family members to say what they wanted to say, I kept getting distracted by the motel, kind of across the road from where we were standing. As I said, I’d never been out there, so I kept wondering why I was having this odd déjà vu Ish moment.

All of a sudden I realized the motel had been in the news a lot fairly recently as the place where Swaggart was caught with his first paid petunia. OMG.

I was so embarrassed that my mind wandered. I don’t think the family knew. Hope not.