In 2007, I flew to Colorado to attend the wedding of my nephew, which was held outdoors on a beautiful veranda high up in the Rockie mountains.
The bride had a brother in law who was some kind of hippie priest. He wore a clerical collar, and a black shirt, and looked quite “holy”, but the bride was wise NOT to have him do the ceremony.
He did, however, get to recite “Desiderata” (Go placidly amid the noise...), and he extemporized calling God “She” at the end.
Suddenly, the heavens Cracked with the biggest bolt of lightening I have ever seen, and the thunder clap was simultaneous, meaning it was RIGHT overhead.
The hippie pried shut his mouth and scurried back to his seat, and the wedding continued.
Most of the guests were Christians, and we all just looked at one another at the exact same time with a smile of recognition.
“pried” should be “priest”.
Wow, what a story. What was the weather like that day? Other than the bolt of lightning and the immediate clap of thunder.