BreakPoint Blog
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Seusscharist? By: Steve Rempe|Published: November 8, 2010 3:39 PM Leave it to the Episcopal Church to seek cultural relevance by crafting a eucharistic service based on the sing-song phrasing of a children's author of the "baby boom" generation. On October 22, Calvary Episcopal Church in Pittsburgh unveiled "Seusscharist"—a service of Holy Communion "based on the works of Theodor Seuss Geisel [a.k.a. "Dr. Seuss"]." A few excerpts:
In addition, the first reading of the service was taken from the lesser-known New Testament missive Yertle the Turtle. Now, I'm as big a fan of Dr. Seuss as anyone. I owned several of the good doctor's books as a child, and I greatly look forward to reading Fox in Socks and Green Eggs and Ham to my kids once they are a little older. I will definitely make it a point to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas in the coming weeks. (Boris Karloff's narration and Chuck Jones' animation are magnificent.) And yet, the idea of recasting the Divine Service in such a way as to invoke a warm sentimentality among 30- and 40-somethings seems misguided at best, and sacreligious at worst. Such attempts are nothing new to The Episcopal Church, which has also introduced such concepts as the U2charist (based on the music of Bono, Edge, et. al.) or the Pirate Eucharist. (Dave Barry denies having anything to do with it, but notes that it would be a good name for a rock band.) Yet, for all their efforts, The Episcopal Church continues to hemorrhage members at an unprecedented rate. As the Grinch himself might say, "Maybe church doesn't grow reminiscing of yore. Maybe worship, perhaps, means a little bit more." |
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Comments:
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Kim, you have no idea how much I’d like to do just what you proposed. But like Solomon said, “the dream comes through much effort” (Eccl 5:3 NASB). Maybe if I live to be 100 some of those dreams have a chance. Thanks for the encouragement.
RolleyQuod, I hope you will excuse my seeming inseussiance for taking so long to respond to your prompt, but there was an aroma-therapy convention here in town earlier this week, and it just so happened that The Odor Guy Sell-ing the most fragrances was a long lost Episcopalian friend who insisted I attend his church’s mid-week “trivial pursuit” service with him – which I did; and to borrow your words, it “was certainly instructive.”
Frankly, the unorthodoxy of it all seemed a bit off-putting to me at first, but once I got into the swing of things, I have to admit I found it more than a little amusing. In fact, I’ll go ahead and confess I even won the grand prize of the evening by giving the correct answer to a four-part trivia question that asked us to name:
1. The governor-elect of California,
2. His favorite philosopher,
3. The film festival he’s famous for attending each year, and
4. The kind of tree he has growing in the rock garden behind his home in Sacramento.
How would you have fared? Want to guess at it?
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.
.
Ok, time’s up.
If you were sharp enough to guess
1. Mr. Brown
2. Camus
3. Cannes
4. Yew
… all I can say, is well-done, and, “Oh the Places You’ll Go!”
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Okay, I’m finished, Steve.
Poof!
1. Somehow when I think of the words "poet laureate", my brain brings up Will Rogers, who used to twirl a lariat - causing me to drop the final "e" from "laureate" in a case of composite spelling. It's an effect of having a brain that works like the "search overload" in the Bing commercials, endlessly chasing mental hyperlinks. ("Hyper links? Too much caffeine on the golf course? Coursing through your veins. You're so vain. Vanna T., thy name is woman. Pat Sajak is a conservative commentator." etc.)
2. Normally when I make a spelling (or grammar) error in commenting at The Point, an editorial voice magically appears in my head to offer a corrective. I've named that voice "my Gina in a bottle". Sometimes she doesn't appear - especially early in the morning - and my errors slip through. But hey: even this imaginary editor works *really hard*, and deserves to be cut some slack once in a while. (Shameless, shameless, yes I am. I'm completely shameless, Sam.)
3. The phrase "a real corker" is a paltry description. It's difficult to find sufficient superlatives. All I can offer is my applause, Rolley, my applause.
4. Thanks to the Episcopalians, we've now solved a Biblical mystery surrounding color: the feeding of the 5,000 was begun with a small boy carrying five loaves and two fish; one fish was red, and...
Oh well. Guess it’s time to don the Daffy mantle once more….
A poem for those in the Episcopal Church (“church”?) who would reduce Christianity to a sort of gong show in which the losers win:
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“Sad I Am”
I am Sad
Sad I am
So Sad-I-am!
So Sad-I-am!
There is no doubt that Sad-I-am!
Do you know how sad I am?
I can’t be deep! Nossir! No ma’am!
I cannot worship: Sad-I-am!
Would you worship
here or there?
I cannot worship
here or there.
I cannot worship anywhere.
I can’t be deep! Nossir! No ma’am!
That’s why they call me, Sad-I-am.
Could you worship in a church?
Could you worship from a perch?
I cannot worship in a church.
I cannot worship from a perch.
I cannot worship on my knees.
I cannot worship worth a sneeze.
I cannot worship Sunday morn.
I cannot worship as I’m born.
I can’t be deep! No sir! No ma’am!
I cannot worship: Sad I am.
Could you worship
Day or night?
Could you worship
In the light?
Not day or night.
Not in the light.
Not in a church.
Not from a perch.
I cannot worship
here or there.
I cannot worship anywhere.
I can’t be deep! No sir! No ma’am!
I cannot worship: Sad I am.
-- by the Euchartoonist (a/k/a “The Heavenly Ham”)
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And now, a dubious tribute to my source of inspiration:
Dorcas and Nimrod © in: “RolleyQuod”
Nimrod: That was a real dose of raw Lee there, wasn’t it?
Dorcas: Nope.
Nimrod: What do you mean, “nope”?
Dorcas: I mean nope, it wasn’t Rolley.
Nimrod: Okaaaayy…so, what would YOU call it?
Dorcas: A classic case of LeeQuod.
Nimrod: Don’t do this, Dorcas.
Dorcas: Don’t do WHAT, Nimrod?
Nimrod: Don’t play these mind games.
Dorcas: Mind games?
Nimrod: Yeah, mind games.
Dorcas: Who’s playing mind games?
Nimrod: You are.
Dorcas: No I’m not.
Nimrod: Then how come you’re making a big deal out of such a tiny technicality?
Dorcas: Tiny technicality?
Nimrod: Yeah tiny technicality. I say it’s raw Lee and you say it’s LeeQuod. There’s hardly any difference.
Dorcas: Really.
Nimrod: Really.
Dorcas: I can’t believe you actually think that.
Nimrod: And I can’t believe you can’t believe I think that.
Dorcas: You really don’t see any difference between Rolley and LeeQuod?
Nimrod: Not enough to be disagreeable over.
Dorcas: Who’s being disagreeable?
Nimrod: Well let me think. Who splits hairs over the difference between raw Lee and LeeQuod?
Dorcas: I’d hardly call that “splitting hairs.”
Nimrod: That’s because you just like to have the last word.
Dorcas: No I don’t.
Nimrod: See there? You just proved my point.
Dorcas: No I didn’t.
Nimrod: Did it AGAIN.
Dorcas: You’re impossible.
Nimrod: I’M impossible?!? You’re the one who can’t agree that raw Lee and LeeQuod are one and the same.
Dorcas: If they were one and the same, Gina’d say something.
Nimrod: Why would Gina care?
Dorcas: Because she’s the editor, and they’ve got rules about that kind of thing.
Nimrod: About what kind of thing?
Dorcas: Using two different names.
Nimrod: Who’s using two different names?
Dorcas: Who’s…? You… Arrghh. Nimrod, you’re impossible. And daffy to boot.
Nimrod: I’M Daffy?!? I’M not Daffy.
Dorcas: You’re right. Rolley is.
Nimrod: You mean LeeQuod?
Dorcas: That’s it. That’s IT. I quit.
Nimrod: I’m not surprised. Like I said: you always have to have the last word.
Dorcas: No, I most emphatically do not.
Nimrod: Oh no? Then I dare you, right here, right now, to not say even one more word. Can’t do it, can you Dorcas?
Dorcas: No comment.
Nimrod: That counts!
Like Nadab and Abihu, those two sons of Aaron,
If we offered strange fire then more fire we'd be wearin'.
So Episcopal priests, please admonish your people;
We don't want to see smoke boiling out of your steeple.
Is there no humility as we come before God?