Stories like these shouldn’t make me laugh. I should be a man of concern. Of compassion. Of a furrowed brow and a heavy heart.
But when I see a headline that reads, “CRAZY BADGER TERRORIZES GUESTS AT LUXURY HOTEL,” my inner 7th grader resurrects and I can’t help it: I snicker a little bit.
What had happened was, a hibernating badger was woken up in Stockholm, and immediately decided to take his revenge on some unsuspecting hotel guests. There was carnage. There was mayhem. Women swooned and stock prices fell.
The angry badger stormed the front steps of the Radisson Blu Waterfront around 5am Sunday and started charging at the glass doors. Guests watched from inside too afraid to venture out.
Surveillance video captured the whole ordeal as the badger continued to scurry back and forth.
Oh, that surveillance footage? If you watch it, it kind of leads us to believe that the drowsy badger sauntered up to the revolving door, stared at the people on the other side of the glass, and walked away with nary an attack. But I reckon “SAUNTERING BADGER AMUSES GUESTS AT A SWEDISH RÄDDISON” doesn’t sell newspapers.
But I digress.
I’ll bet that your church has a crazy badger. I’ll bet that every weekend, a disgruntled rodent shows up and threatens to derail your guest experience. Maybe it’s a volunteer who knows what to do but not why they do it. Maybe its a gap in your connection process and people are falling into an abyss. Perhaps it’s a service that runs too long or a programming piece that comes up short or a ministry initiative that doesn’t feel just right.
And all the while, your guests are trapped, trying to take a next step but afraid / unable / unwilling to cross the badger that stands in their way.
Every church has a badger. Some of ’em we invite, some of ’em we can easily get rid of. But all of ’em have to be dealt with for the sake of our guests.
What’s your crazy badger?