Baptismal Parties Behaving Badly

I love baptisms. Baptizing infants (and those who can speak for themselves) is one of my absolute favorite things about ordained ministry. Being the conduit for establishing that indissoluble bond between an individual and Jesus is a privilege.

Plus, when there are babies involved — which is the norm — I’m able to get my baby fix. I look at it as grandparent training: holding babies until they do those things that babies do and then handing them back to the parents. Some of my parishioners call me “The Baby Whisperer” and I admit I do have a pretty uncanny ability to quiet down a fussy infant. Also, my preaching puts them right to sleep.

We’re fortunate to do a lot of baptisms at St. John’s and there’s nothing better than welcoming a new parishioner into the “household of God.” But we also err on the side of grace and baptize babies of some families we don’t know. I always run a mandatory baptismal preparation class for parents (and ideally godparents) in the days or weeks leading up to the big day. I talk about the symbols of baptism and the liturgy and what it all means (fortunately I had the Episcopal Church’s baptism guru, the Rev. Dr. Ruth Myers, as my liturgics professor so I take this stuff seriously). I also give them a booklet with some more detailed information about baptism in general and at St. John’s in particular.

One of the major points I like to stress is that baptism isn’t a rite of passage but a rite of commitment. And there’s a major distinction between these two! If the baptism becomes merely something to “get through” before the day’s major event — brunch — then we have a problem. Reading through the baptismal questions demonstrates just how serious this stuff is, a point I’m always tempted to make by showing parents that wonderful carnage-filled baptism scene from The Godfather.

Yesterday on Pentecost — one of the four days of the church year deemed “especially appropriate” for baptism — we welcomed thousands of new Christians into the church (uh, not at St. John’s — five this weekend — but in parishes everywhere). And I’m always reminded that some people still struggle with taking it seriously (not regular parishioners mind you). I think the worst example of Baptismal Parties Behaving Badly was the parish I served in New York where a godparent answered her cell phone during the baptism and then proceeded to narrate the entire baptism for her friend.

So in this light, I have rewritten the baptismal questions from the Prayer Book. There are three renunciations followed by three affirmations. Maybe we’ll start reciting these at our baptism prep classes!

Then the Celebrant asks the following questions of the parents and godparents who speak on behalf of the infants and younger children.

Question: Do you renounce flash photography and all annoying actions that rebel against the liturgy?
Answer: I renounce them.

Question: Do you renounce blowing off coffee hour and other actions which corrupt and destroy the concept of community?
Answer: I renounce them.

Question: Do you renounce yapping during the communion anthem and all sinful desires that draw you from the love of the sacrament?
Answer: I renounce them.

Question: Do you turn to the hymnal and actually sing the hymns?
Answer: I do.

Question: Do you put your trust in God by shutting down your cell phone and not surfing the internet during the sermon?
Answer: I do.

Question: Do you promise not to use the Peace as your own personal family photo op?
Answer: I do.

Okay, so I’m having some fun with this. And in that spirit, feel free to share your own stories. As clergy we do ourselves and the church no favors by accepting such behavior and it’s our responsibility to nip it in the baptismal font.

 

 

If you’ve ever…you must be a priest in DioMass

Couldn’t find an Anglican Idol logo

Yes, it’s that time of the year: Clergy Conference. Three of the four I’ve been to here in the Diocese of Massachusetts have been graced by an evening “talent” show (aka Anglican Idol). My first year I wrote a poem welcoming me to the diocese. That was followed up by a letter from then-Senator John Kerry after he canceled at the last minute. Tonight I’m riffing on Jeff Foxworthy.

Most of this is insider clergy humor. Hopefully, if you even bother to continue reading, you won’t get most of the references.

If you’ve ever…you must be a priest in DioMass

If you’ve ever had to shovel the snow off the front steps of your church in April…

If you’ve ever tried to buy a drink with MECA Bucks at your local pub…

If you’ve ever been to a diocesan convention and prayed to Jesus that the bishop wouldn’t uncross his legs…

If you’ve ever thought there was a canon stating that every straight white male priest must play the guitar at clergy conference…

If you’ve ever started your vestry meeting with a form of Appreciative Inquiry even though you really didn’t know what the hell it was…

If you’ve ever left the cathedral wondering what in God’s name is stuck to the seat of your pants…

If you’ve ever wondered how a Confirmation Service could possibly last 3 1/2 hours…

If you’ve ever driven to Weston…

If you’ve ever been turned down for postulancy in another diocese…

If you’ve ever wondered why a certain guitar-playing retired bishop keeps showing up at deanery meetings…

And similarly, if you’ve ever heard a certain retired bishop drop an F-bomb while smoking a cigarette…

If you’ve ever spoken to a resolution at convention and referenced the baptismal covenant…

And finally, if you’ve ever had a strapping young gay man trapped inside of you…

Okay, I should explain that last one — it’s a reference to something one of the speakers said. It was a joke. I think.

Finally, a few more that I couldn’t bear to say publicly in front of everyone but don’t have a problem putting on the internet since it’s so anonymous, untraceable, and easily erased:

If you’ve ever wanted to step on a precious little dog during a visitation…

If you’ve ever wondered how so many crazy people could have possibly graduated from EDS…

If you’ve ever thought your parish was in danger of closing…

If you’ve ever thought the social hour at clergy conference resembled the scene at a gay bar…

If you’ve ever wondered how a gigantic image of the nautilus passes for a Christian symbol…

If you’ve never attended an Episcopal seminary…

Ancient Text Discovered!

BREAKING NEWS — An ancient Biblical text was recently discovered in the Egyptian desert that debunks a controversial piece of Christian Scripture. Scholars have been left scrambling how best to interpret a papyrus fragment containing a single verse — John 20:19.

This verse has long been a sticking point in Christian-Jewish relations. It reads as follows:

Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in the midst, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you. (John 20:19 — King James Version)

Liturgical Christians traditionally read this passage on the Sunday after Easter at the start of the story of “Doubting Thomas” (John 20:19-31).

The line “for fear of the Jews” has led to instances of anti-Semitic behavior perpetrated by Christians at various points in history. This, coupled with the Passion Narrative from John’s gospel, has led some Christians to the conclusion that it was “the Jews” who crucified Jesus. Indeed it wasn’t until the 1960′s that the Roman Catholic Church officially repudiated this assertion.

This newly discovered fragment appears to further dispel the notion of Christians being afraid of “the Jews” following the resurrection. Translated into English from the original Greek it reads:

Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the juice…(italics added for emphasis).

In other words, the early church was not afraid of “the Jews” at all but of “the juice.”

Scholars are currently holed up at the Vatican attempting to determine whether the offending juice was orange, apple, or pineapple. One viewpoint has emerged arguing that it was not fear of juice per se but rather of co-mingling combinations such as cranberry-grape or mango-guava. We also understand, from an anonymous source, that one prominent scholar is pushing a theory that the early Christians were not afraid of “the juice” at all but lived in dread of “the Juice” aka O.J. Simpson.

Attempts to contact Jose Canseco for his opinion on whether this may involve Performance-Enhancing Drugs (aka “juice”) have been unsuccessful.

While we all await the final verdict, network television executives in America have, in an attempt to distance themselves from juice, banned advertising from Capri Sun, Tropicana, and Welch’s. Complicating matters for liturgical leaders of denominations such as the Methodist Church is their use of grape juice at communion. When asked about their serving of juice during services, Methodist headquarters issued a blanket “no comment” statement.

Stay tuned as this controversy continues to unfold.

***********

This is, of course, no laughing matter and as Christians we cannot simply ignore these inferences when they arise in our Scriptures. My assistant, the Rev. Anne Emry, has written a brief blurb we like to run in our bulletins on this Second Sunday of Easter (see below). Feel free to use or adapt it in your own congregation or if you use something similar, consider sharing it. Thanks and continued Easter blessings to all.

“The doors were locked for fear of the Jews.”
Christianity has a difficult history which includes terrible persecution of Jewish people. It is important to clearly address how wrong it is, and how far from the teachings of Jesus. Know this: Jesus was a Jew and his followers were mostly Jews. The people he preached to, taught, and healed, were mostly Jews. He taught from the Jewish Scriptures and was executed by the Romans. Later historic struggles between Christian and Jewish communities, reflected in the Gospels, allowed anachronistic transfer of blame from the Romans to the Jews. Anti-Jewish violence and prejudice is intolerable. We must not force the Jews to lock their doors for fear of the Christians.

Magi MythBusters! (and the real reasons they were late)

As you probably know, we celebrate the arrival of the Magi to Bethlehem on January 6th, the Feast of the Epiphany. Well, unless your only contact with the Christmas story is an annual Christmas pageant in which case you believe they arrived right after the shepherds on Christmas Eve. Yes, we conflate these stories making every creche, not to mention every Christmas Eve pageant, biblically incorrect (shepherds and kings don’t mix — look it up).

But that’s okay — I’m just glad people are hearing the story even if it’s the Cliff’s Notes version. Plus, I sure won’t be the one to tell the pageant director there won’t be any frankincense next year.

While we mark the arrival of the Magi on January 6th, the reality is we don’t actually know when they showed up. In fact it may have been years later assuming they didn’t start traveling from the East (probably modern day Iran) until the birth itself when the star appeared. Camels aren’t exactly built to set land speed records.

Oh, and they weren’t really kings either. More like astrologers or scientists who worshipped and sought truth in a variety of ways. They were respected for their wisdom and spiritual insight but it’s not like they were “real” kings like, say, Herod.

One thing is clear: they never showed up at the manger as popular legend would have it. Matthew’s gospel makes this clear: “And going into the house they [the Magi] saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh” (Matthew 2:11). Going into the house! Which makes sense since surely the Holy Family didn’t stay in that stable for too long.

By the time the Magi made it to the party, perhaps Jesus was finally sleeping through the night (let’s face it, that first night might have been holy but, as any parent knows, there was surely nothing “silent” about it). Still, the gold, frankincense, and myrrh? Lousy baby gifts by any standard. I’m sure Mary was really hoping for some diapers, a few onesies, and a binky.

A couple of years ago, just for fun, I started wondering about what kept the three kings from making an on-time arrival. I scoured many sources and came up with the following possibilities:

1. Balthazar took forever doing his hair while Caspar and Melchior sat on their camels and stewed.

2. The holiday traffic on the way into Bethlehem was dreadful.

3. Four words: goats in the road.

4. The Star of Bethlehem (the original GPS) kept saying “recalculating” and they found themselves in a sketchy part of town.

5. Caspar drank way too much water at the first oasis which meant an extra long stop at the Molly Pitcher rest stop.

6. Untying fancy sandals to go through the TSA checkpoint took a long time. Retying them took forever.

7. Due to poor behavior on the part of the other two kings, Melchior had to pull over more than once to yell, “If you don’t stop fighting I’m going to turn this caravan right around!”

8. Stopping at the Holiday Inn slowed them down because, in a precursor to today’s “culture wars,” Balthazar kept insisting the name should be changed to “Christmas Inn.”

9. “I told you that stop at Herod’s house was a waste of time.”

10. They took a vote and decided to take their sweet time getting to the manger so they would have a day all to themselves on the Church calendar.

I’m not sure you’d find any scriptural warrant for this list. But then again you’d find the same basis for assuming the Magi showed up at the manger.

I wish you all a blessed Epiphany. How great that it coincides with Sunday morning this year!

The 12 Days of Christmas (The “Real” True Meaning)

During these Twelve Days of Christmas, you’ll see a number of e-mails about the alleged “meaning” behind the traditional carol “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” While this is my least favorite Christmas song (shades of 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall), there is compelling evidence that this was composed as an underground catechetical ditty. So the Four Calling Birds refer to the four gospels, the Six Geese a-Laying symbolize the six days of creation, and so on.

Of course there’s equally compelling evidence that this is complete baloney. See the supposed meanings and the debunking on Snopes.com.

Whatever you believe, I have actually done some exhaustive research (and by “exhaustive” I mean that I’m still completely exhausted from all the Christmas services), and have uncovered the “real” true meaning behind this carol.

The Twelve Days of Christmas
(the “Real” True Meaning)

A Partridge in a Pear Tree — the rector hiding in a tree from coffee hour complaints

Two Turtle Doves — the two parishioners comprising the parish Peace and Justice Committee

Three French Hens — the three French ladies who sit in the front row every year at Midnight Mass

Four Calling Birds — four members of the Commission on Ministry

Five Gold Rings — five bishops caucusing at the House of Bishops meeting

Six Geese a-Laying — six seminarians laying homiletical eggs in the pulpit

Seven Swans a-Swimming — seven baptisms at the Easter Vigil, stretching the liturgy to three hours

Eight Maids a-Milking — eight members of the hospitality committee bringing non-dairy creamer to coffee hour

Nine Ladies Dancing — the one and only time liturgical dance appeared at St. Swithin’s

Ten Lords a-Leaping — inserted into the new Christmas Pageant from the avant garde director

Eleven Pipers Piping — the eleven funeral last year that included a bag piper playing Amazing Grace at the end

Twelve Drummers Drumming — the “drumming circle” used at the ill-fated “contemporary worship service”

Episco-Bowls

The Lavabo Bowl

Besides being in the midst of the 12 Days of Christmas, we’re also in the throes of college football’s bowl season. It used to be that you could tick off the big bowl games with no problem at all: Cotton, Orange, Sugar, Sun, and the “granddaddy of them all” the Rose Bowl. Now, with the explosion of both bowl games and their often obscure sponsors, it seems that getting into a bowl game is a God-given right for every mediocre football team in the nation.

It takes a true college football fan (or someone desperate to avoid interacting with their family) to get jazzed about the Meineke Car Care Bowl, the Franklin American Mortgage Bowl, the Chick-Fil-A Bowl, the Godaddy.com Bowl, or the Famous Idaho Potato Bowl.

With the plethora of bowl games out there, I thought why should the Episcopal Church get left out of the old bowl game? Here are some potential sponsors and match-ups to keep us going while we sit around insisting that Christmas is not over but just kicking off on December 25th!

The Taylor Tawny Port Bowl

Trinity College (CT) vs. Hobart and William Smith

What better way to honor the single most-used communion wine in the Episcopal Church? (Of age) undergrads hand out pre-consecrated samples during halftime as we attempt to set the Guinness Book of World Records mark for largest communion liturgy (without a sermon).

The C.M. Almy Bowl

Kenyon College vs. Sewanee

The in-game referees are comprised of the male Almy catalog models looking particularly pious as they call that offensive holding penalty. The cheerleaders are made up of the female catalog models looking uncomfortable in ill-fitting female clergy shirts. The good news is that all paying customers are given a free Lenten array stole. The bad news is that it’s on back order.

The Usher Bowl

College of Preachers vs. College of Cardinals

This highly organized affair will insure sure everyone is seated before kickoff. On the off chance that a spectator is late, they won’t be seated until the first timeout is called. Sure it’s a bummer when the ushers pass the collection plate during halftime but you can always pull the old fold-the-single-dollar-bill-so-it-looks-like-an-$11-bill trick. Please note: despite the rumors, the recording artist Usher will not be performing during the halftime show.

The Forward Movement Bowl

Bard College vs. Random College from England

While it’s tough to read the players’ names in the scorecard because it’s printed in tract-size, this bowl gets the participants out of the cramped narthex and onto the playing field. This bowl is marked by a single rule change — forward laterals are legal. All players are presented with a signed copy of former Presiding Bishop Edmund Browning’s biography to regift.

The Bad Coffee in Styrofoam Cups Bowl

William and Mary vs. Voorhees College

Unique among bowl games, the BCSC Bowl is played neither in an open air stadium nor in a dome but in an ill-lit undercroft. This bowl usually peters out midway through the 3rd quarter as the weak coffee puts spectators and players alike into a catatonic state. The parking lot is conveniently located adjacent to a land-fill so fans can toss their cups away with full confidence that they will remain intact until the eschaton.

And, finally, the godfather of them all…

The Lent Madness Bowl

Scott Gunn vs. Tim Schenck

There’s nothing like a little Lenten foreshadowing during the Christmas season to get people excited about Lent Madness. The astroturf is painted purple in honor of this upcoming season of repentance — sure this, along with the purple football, make it hard to track on TV but who said the Christian life was easy? Fans cast their votes online (one vote per person!) to determine whether the halftime show will feature local clergy engaged in synchronized self-flagellation or Tim and Scott challenging one another in a Family Feud-style Prayer Book rubric violation quiz show.

I hope you enjoy yourself during this year’s bowl season. And, remember, when you’re at that Alabama vs. Notre Dame National Championship party, don’t pronounce “Notre Dame” with a French accent. It’ll make you look like an amateur.

How to Market Advent Lessons & Carols

For many people it’s just not Advent until they attend a service of Lessons & Carols. This beloved liturgy has deep roots in the Anglican musical tradition and evokes images of vested choirs, coped clergy, Advent wreaths, and a December chill in the air.

The service itself is structured on a liturgy first offered at the Chapel of King’s College, Cambridge, England, in 1918. Almost immediately other churches adapted the service for their own use but its popularity really began to grow when the service was first broadcast in 1928. With the exception of 1930, Advent Lessons & Carols has been broadcast annually from King’s College, even during the Second World War.

Here at St. John’s, along with many other parishes, Advent L & C ranks as one of the liturgical highlights of the entire year. Now if you’re trying to draw people to your own sublimely beautiful and well-planned Advent Festival of Lessons & Carols, I have some tips. Truth be told my globe-trotting archnemesis also contributed to this list but he’s somewhere in Jerusalem at a coffee shop while I’m stuck here with visions of Christmas Eve bulletins dancing in my head so I’ll take all the credit.

How to Market Advent Lessons and Carols

1. We steadfastly refuse to admit any holiday festivity so kindly leave the Christmas sweater and reindeer brooch at home. The ushers will remove any Santa hats they spot with an air of righteous indignation.

2. You’ll get to sing/mumble your way through unfamiliar Advent hymns and listen to Advent carols no one recognizes.

3. Yes, there are scary prophetic readings but they’re always undercut with a tuneful anthem (that you won’t recognize) following each one.

4. Prior to the service be sure to Google ”why is there a pink candle in the advent wreath.”

5. Listen to Americans and Brits fight over the pronunciation of Isaiah (eye-ZAY-uh vs. eye-ZEYE-uh).

6. Fire hazards abound. Fortunately the liturgy is about as interesting as watching wax drip.

7. This is the one time during the year we let that crazy lady with the British accent read a lesson.

8. It’s fun to play spot the fake garland. It’s like Where’s Waldo only easier.

9. Keep waiting for someone to read Ezekiel’s passage about the Valley of  Dry Bones until you remember that happens at the Easter Vigil not Lessons and Carols.

10. Judge the abilities of the various lectors and hold a grudge against the rector for not utilizing your superior reading abilities.

11. Take bets during the car ride to church over whether the parish secretary remembered to change the date on the bulletin from last year.

12. No sermon. Though most clergy make up for this by adding in a non-rubrical “announcements” section in order to “preach” about their upcoming schedule of Christmas services.

13. The reception following the liturgy is stale crackers and cheap wine. It’s a meeting point between Lent (no refreshments) and Christmas (festive food).

14. Clergy who attend will come to blows arguing over whether or not the vestments and hangings are the “correct” Advent color.

15. Episcopalians who like to ignore Marian devotion can scowl through hymns about our Blessed Mother.

I guarantee that if you take out a full page ad in the local paper listing these reasons to attend your service of Lessons and Carols, you’ll need to hire some crowd control thugs off of Craig’s List.

In the meantime, I bid you blessings during this holy season of waiting and watching and preparing for the arrival of the Christ child. Scott Gunn may or may not do likewise at his second coming (back to America) when he returns to judge the liturgy.

Happy #Snarksgiving!

It seems most appropriate on this Black Friday, to share some thoughts from the (still bloated) underbelly of Thanksgiving. Over on Twitter yesterday several rather snarky clerics created a Litany of #Snarksgiving throughout the day. It was an enjoyable and humorous exercise in between courses and conversations and quarters (the football variety, not the drinking game).

I felt compelled to compile these intercessions in case the Liturgical Standing Committee of the Episcopal Church ever authorizes a shadow Book of Common Prayer. I’ll share the names of the participants but, for fear of reprisals, I won’t attribute them. Of course, if you’re on Twitter you can go back and figure it out but I’m betting no one has the energy or will to actually do that.

Besides me, contributors included the Rev.’s Laurie Brock, Scott Gunn, Anne Lane Witt, and the ever-mysterious ChurchSnobTEC. If you’re on the Twitters, I suggest following these folks — never a dull moment when they get going. But without further ado here it is:

Litany of #Snarksgiving

For people who say, “Get up! Let’s go DO SOMETHING instead of nap!” We give snarks.

For family members who don’t like football and consider it rude to put the TV on, we give snarks.

For distant relatives who call and have the phone passed all around, we give snarks.

For in-laws who can’t travel without small, yappy dogs, we give snarks.

For a mother-in-law who’d hadn’t yet put the turkey in when we arrived (!), we give snarks.

For having to make culinary compromises for vegans, we give snarks.

For those who consider pigs in a blanket an appropriate appetizer, we give snarks.

For being overstimulated & undermedicated, we give snarks.

For those posting pictures of food on Facebook, we give snarks.

For inane discussions about the moose lodge, we give snarks.

For family members who think alcohol is “of the devil,” we give snarks. (And drink. Wine.)

For Reunite as the “good” wine, we give snarks.

For people who think Thanksgiving is the right day to bust out Christmas music, we give snarks.

For family that buys champagne but doesn’t put it on ice, we give snarks.

For those who insist holiday cocktail hour doesn’t begin until happy hour, we give snarks.

For the children’s table at ages 35+, we give snarks.

For less sleep than we get during the work week, we give snarks.

For guests who don’t leave after the pie, we give snarks.

For being put in a twin bed like we’re 12, we give snarks.

For relatives that didn’t buy Bloody Mary mix, we give snarks.

For traditional family dishes that no one likes, we give snarks.

For family that awake us from naps and then won’t go away, we give snarks.

Well, there we go. We hope you enjoyed this litany and encourage you to use it in place of grace at next year’s Thanksgiving feast.

Top Ten Reasons to Attend the Community Thanksgiving Service

As I prepared for this evening’s Interfaith Community Thanksgiving Service at the local Unitarian church, I began to reflect on why we hold these “liturgies.” It’s nice to gather, certainly, and I appreciate knowing all the local clergy. But at a completely different level, there are many good (well, 10) reasons to attend such services. Thus, I offer you my:

Top Ten Reasons to Attend the Community Thanksgiving Service

1. When else would you get to hold a bulletin emblazoned with cornucopia clip-art?

2. To prove the superior vestiture of Episcopalians (or, at what point does an abundance of polyester cassock-albs become a fire hazard?).

3. To get away from the in-laws for an hour while they dispute the ingredients of your late grandmother’s stuffing recipe.

4. To worship God in lowest common denominator form (along with several references to Mother Earth).

5. To pray that parishioners from other churches will see the light and join your congregation.

6. To enjoy seeing the area clergy being paraded around in front of the congregation like a police line-up (“Hey, you, number two Methodist; stand next to that Presbyterian and sing ‘Eagles’ Wings’”).

7. To take bets on how many times the hosting cleric will say the word “welcome.”

8. To witness hearing all the participating clergy being given a line or two (in the name of inclusion) so it feels a third grade play.

9. Since the rest of your family refuses to go it makes for a contemplative time.

10. To enjoy the post-service store-bought brownies and punch reception (a result of several unnamed Protestant denominations for whom wine is anathema).

I look forward to celebrating Thanksgiving with The Great Thanksgiving tomorrow at 9:00 am. It will be most welcome.

And, finally, I bid everyone a blessed Thanksgiving (regardless of denomination!).

Litany for Diocesan Convention

Well, folks, it’s that time of year again. The bishop bangs the gavel and Diocesan Conventions throughout the land grind to a start. Last year I offered my Diocesan Convention Survival Guide and while it’s still relevant, I thought I’d help advance the cause through what we Episcopalians do best: liturgy. And by “best” I mean at any time other than at a Diocesan Convention (for some reason it all falls apart when two or three priests are gathered together in the bishop’s name.

This Litany for Diocesan Convention is appropriate for any convention liturgy. If it’s not part of the official bulletin, I suggest appointing your own cantor and singing it during the budget presentation. It is, of course, sung to the tune of The Great Litany, the world’s oldest English language rite.

Enjoy and may your intercessions come to fruition.

Litany for Diocesan Convention

O God the Father, Creator of heaven and mirth.
Have mercy upon us.

O God the Son, Redeemer of the bored.
Have mercy upon us.

O God the Holy Spirit, Sanctifier of the awful.
Have mercy upon us.

Remember not, Lord Christ, our offenses, nor the offenses of our fellow delegates; neither reward us according to our pomposity. Spare us, good Lord, spare thy people, whom thou hast brought to this dingy cathedral, and by thy mercy preserve us from boredom, for ever.
Spare us, good Lord.

From all box lunches and ennui; from the crafts and assaults of the self-absorbed; and from never-ending debate,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From poseurs and grandstanders and from those who like to hear the sound of their own voices.
Good Lord, deliver us.

From those compelled to speak from any available microphone even with nothing to say,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From liturgies that include the clapping of hands and hymns no one knows,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From the self-important, the aggravating, and the sanctimonious,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From the humorless, the thin-skinned, and those that posture,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From the authors of pointless resolutions and amendments to said resolutions,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From endless budget debates that never change a thing,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From the lack of Wi-Fi, poor cell service, and slow connections,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From clergy who gravitate toward those with purple shirts,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From being drafted to run for diocesan council,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From  weak and lukewarm coffee and the requisite non-dairy creamer,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From those who disparage the use of smart phones even as they knit,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From delegates politicking in the restroom and during the Peace,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From monotonous reports by people reading us their Power Point slides,
Good Lord, deliver us.

From the same six people who insist on speaking to every resolution,
Good Lord, deliver us.

Bishop  XX, we beseech thee to hear us.
Bishop XX, we beseech thee to hear us.

O Secretary of Convention, you have the power to set us free,
Have mercy upon us.

O Secretary of Convention, you have the power to set us free,
Have mercy upon us.

O Secretary of Convention, you have the power to set us free,
Grant us release.