Barhopping in Chetek

“They told everyone they met what the angels had said about this child. All who heard [them] were impressed.” Luke 2:18, The Message

Frances smiled. “Behold!” she shouted. “I bring you tidings of Great Joy!” And because the words felt so right, Frances said them again. “Great Joy.” - Great Joy by Kate DiCamillo

This past Saturday night some friends of mine and I went barhopping in and around Chetek. We were making merry at the time of year that many do at and gathering with others who were doing the same. But unlike many of the patrons we met during our two and a half hour lark out on the town, we were not imbibing alcoholic spirits. Rather, we were caroling and dispensing the joy inspired by the Holy Spirit in each of us.

Most of the places had more class than this

A few of our number were from Refuge. A few from other fellowships. We even had a Norm amongst us just in case someone wanted to yell out his name Cheers-style. The plan was simple: to go forth into these places where some people in our city gather to socialize and – in a few cases, drown their sorrows - and sing the gospel to them. We may indeed live in a a post-Christian society but caroling is still an accepted and welcomed practice in December. And so many traditional carols are jam-packed with good evangelical theology. Joy to the World, Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!, O Little Town of Bethlehem and, of course, Silent Night – solid gospel primers the lot of them.

We gathered at the House of Prayer in downtown Chetek for a time of prayer beforehand and then proceeded to walk to the five drinking establishments that are either across the street or around the corner from it. In each place as we would enter heads would turn and I would announce what we were here to do. With only one exception, the music would be turned off and then for the next five minutes or so we would sing. After a few songs, we would take requests. Again, with the exception of one tavern where Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer was requested, the patrons asked that we sing a favorite sacred carol. And then before we sang We Wish You A Merry Christmas and left for another tavern, one of our membership pronounced a prayer or blessing upon the patrons.

In one place, one of our guys felt led to offer a piece of gospel literature to a quiet man sitting at the bar nursing his beer. In another place, another of our membership prayed with a guy who began to weep as we sang Silent Night. We shook a lot of hands that night and, when I would see someone I knew, gave a few hugs as well. Again and again this rhythm was repeated of welcome, song, public blessing and benediction. We never intentionally identified ourselves with a particular fellowship other than to say we were from the House of Prayer.

We did not run into any antagonism. We never felt compelled to wipe the proverbial snow off our boots (while it was warm for December, it definitely was not sandal-weather.) What we encountered at the one tavern where it didn't occur to them to turn their music down I would characterize as indifference more than anything else. That it's the one place in town were the 20-somethings congregate may have something to do with that. And yet as we headed back to our vehicles (we were using wheels now), a guy who had stepped outside for a smoke sometime during our singing made a point of thanking us for stopping in.

It was a wonderful night of singing and blessing and acknowledging the rule and reign of Jesus “far as the curse is found.” When it was all over, we returned to the House of Prayer for a short time of debrief and closing prayer. One of the guys who had joined us confessed that he really had not wanted to come but his wife (also one of our company) had begged him to do so. Now that it was over was he so glad that he had. In fact, all of us testified of feeling a certain “buzz” that did not have its source in anything that is humanly distilled. It was joy. Great joy. The great joy of declaring to all the people we had met and encountered that night the things that God has revealed to us.