People don't always notice subtle, decorative changes I make around the church. One week I swapped a plastic, five-foot Ficus tree for a six-foot, silk Capensia. The tree stood behind a green wicker chair I repositioned in front of the administrative center that I'd shifted two inches further from the door.
All these changes and no one commented.
Now, to be fair to my congregation, someone did notice when I purchased a stool and moved it beside the podium. But he is an unusually observant man; once he pointed out a scuff on my shoe.
So, for my prank: I have removed the hallowed items from our church's showcase and replaced them with pink and yellow Peeps. The former objects are safely stored in an airtight container.
I'm trying to envision the scene come Sunday morning. Families will meander through the doors, only to have their attention snagged by a brilliant showing of pink and yellow. The overhead lighting will glisten off the sugar crystals. Everyone will stop, licking their lips and creating a human barrier to the auditorium.
Reactions will be mixed. Some will try hard to decipher the spiritual meaning of a showcase filled with Peeps. Others, concerned with preserving the church's history, will search for the hidden items. And certainly some will be so enraged at the tribute to Ishtar (idol) and Walmart (idol-distributor) that they'll storm out.
Actually, after that forecast, I'm not sure I'm willing to suffer the backlash of my prank. A former pastor once told me not to make any changes in the first seven years of ministry. He never qualified the magnitude of the change. Service order? Music style? Translation of the Bible? Putting Peeps instead of antiques in the church's showcase? He simply said, no changes.
Of course, now my problem is what to do with the 4000 Peeps I just charged to my credit card.