(snark!)
(been reading too much of The Onion!)
LYRDANEB, MN--Congregational meetings at Prairie Chalice Unitarian Church have been loud and exciting before, but this Sunday was the first time in memory that sirens were involved. Gus Stevenson, who had just moments before been elected to the church board, started gasping and fell to the ground.
Luckily, no one had actually turned off their cell phones during the morning service and thirteen people called 911. The paramedics arrived quickly and recognizing a severe allergic reaction, gave the man a quick shot of epinephrine.
"He'd gotten all red and splotchy in meetings before," said church secretary Muriel Krueger, "but we thought he was just angry about the bylaws revisions."
"He'd started breathing all weird when he was fighting the church president on the new brochure designs," said Coffee Hour coordinator Bart Michaels, "but we assumed he was joking when he said he was allergic to authority."
Mr. Stevenson was transported to the local hospital and released the next day. His doctors advised him to resign his leadership position and avoid any further meetings or responsibilities.
"I'm glad that I'm still alive, I guess," he admited, "but I will not let this disability keep me from finally getting this church to do all the things we should have done years ago."
As this story went to press, Mr. Stevenson was seeking allergists, homeopathic remedies, and ca lawyer to find out if the church was negligent for not having EpiPens in the building. If you can help him with any of these, please email him-squeakywheel@gmail.net.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Genesis, Midrashim and Mother's Day: A Story
When a woman is going to have a baby, the Angel of the Night takes the tiny seed of the baby to God. She will look at it and say, "Oh yes! That is Abdul." Or Rochelle, or whoever. Then God decides if the person will be tall or short, rich or poor, fat, skinny or whatever. Everything about the person's life is determined, except whether he or she will live a good life or even one. God has no control over that, only the person.
After making her decisions, God calls for the soul to be brought in. She tells the soul, "Enter this person."
The soul hesitates. "I am holy and pure and part of you," she says. "Why do you want me to live in a body?"
"Do not worry," God reassures her. "I created you for this." But the soul does not want to live in a body, so God forces it in.. Then she appoints two angels to watch over the mother in case the soul tries to escape.
Each of us has two guardian angels. One represents the good we want to do. The other represents the evil. On Judgment Day the two angels will stand before God. One will tell her the good you did. The other will talk about all you did that you shouldn't have and all you could have but didn't. But as long as the soul is inside the mother, the angels feel how lonely and afraid she is and they put a light above her so she can see from one end of the world to the other. They show her all the places she will live and where she will one day die.
Finally the day comes for the baby to be born. "It is time for you to come into the world," the angels announce to the soul.
"I like it in here!" the soul shouts back. "It's warm and cozy and I'm not coming out."
The angels have no choice. The soul must come into the world. The angels look at each other and wink. Then they tickle the soul--she starts giggling and can't stop them. Before she knows it, she is in the world. When the baby feels the cold air, the soul forgets everything she saw and learned about where she will live and die and be buried.
Thus we are born, laughing and crying.
(From Julius Fester's amazing _When the Beginning Began: Stories about God, the creatures and us_ http://www.amazon.com/When-Beginning-Began-Stories-Creatures/dp/0152012389/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-3383807-2447829?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1179060068&sr=8-1 )
After making her decisions, God calls for the soul to be brought in. She tells the soul, "Enter this person."
The soul hesitates. "I am holy and pure and part of you," she says. "Why do you want me to live in a body?"
"Do not worry," God reassures her. "I created you for this." But the soul does not want to live in a body, so God forces it in.. Then she appoints two angels to watch over the mother in case the soul tries to escape.
Each of us has two guardian angels. One represents the good we want to do. The other represents the evil. On Judgment Day the two angels will stand before God. One will tell her the good you did. The other will talk about all you did that you shouldn't have and all you could have but didn't. But as long as the soul is inside the mother, the angels feel how lonely and afraid she is and they put a light above her so she can see from one end of the world to the other. They show her all the places she will live and where she will one day die.
Finally the day comes for the baby to be born. "It is time for you to come into the world," the angels announce to the soul.
"I like it in here!" the soul shouts back. "It's warm and cozy and I'm not coming out."
The angels have no choice. The soul must come into the world. The angels look at each other and wink. Then they tickle the soul--she starts giggling and can't stop them. Before she knows it, she is in the world. When the baby feels the cold air, the soul forgets everything she saw and learned about where she will live and die and be buried.
Thus we are born, laughing and crying.
(From Julius Fester's amazing _When the Beginning Began: Stories about God, the creatures and us_ http://www.amazon.com/When-Beginning-Began-Stories-Creatures/dp/0152012389/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-3383807-2447829?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1179060068&sr=8-1 )
Friday, May 11, 2007
Peace ripples: Pizza Party
This story is a few days old, but I've just been GROOVING on it.
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/05/09/execution.pizza/index.html
For those who don't want to click, here's the synopsis.
-Philip Workman, while homeless and on drugs in the 80s, held up a Wendys. In the ensuing struggle, a police officer was killed. Workman was sentenced to death.
-His final wish was that the prison give a free veggie pizza to homeless in the area.
-Prison says 'Sorry, we don't do charity.'
-Lots and lots of people hear the news and start donating pizzas to the homeless.
So much to say--I'll let this guy do my talking:
Cliff Tredway, the director of public relations for the Rescue Mission, said it's more than pizzas that helped that shelter.
"It's the story of a guy whose execution translated into a generous act," he said. "It's people donating to other people they don't know.
"It's about a group of people who society often writes off getting a pizza party today."
http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/05/09/execution.pizza/index.html
For those who don't want to click, here's the synopsis.
-Philip Workman, while homeless and on drugs in the 80s, held up a Wendys. In the ensuing struggle, a police officer was killed. Workman was sentenced to death.
-His final wish was that the prison give a free veggie pizza to homeless in the area.
-Prison says 'Sorry, we don't do charity.'
-Lots and lots of people hear the news and start donating pizzas to the homeless.
So much to say--I'll let this guy do my talking:
Cliff Tredway, the director of public relations for the Rescue Mission, said it's more than pizzas that helped that shelter.
"It's the story of a guy whose execution translated into a generous act," he said. "It's people donating to other people they don't know.
"It's about a group of people who society often writes off getting a pizza party today."
Working on your own holiday
Something like 75% of DREs are also mothers. The figure used to be nearly 100%, excepting a few 'poor childless women'. Now there are men in the profession, a growing number of YADREs fresh out of college, and the childfree. But still, most gatherings of DREs will be women, telling about the kids' latest exploits or reminiscing about when their children were that age. Women get into religious education when their own children are young--something about the flexible hours, the search for religious truth and meaning, and the need to have a role beyond mother.
But what was my point? Ah, yes. Mother's Day. Or, depending on the mood I'm in, Mothers' Day. Or Mothers Day. Every year the RE children do something special for their mothers and the many other nurturers in the congregation. It's a perfect day for a little tea party after service, for small handmade gifts and adorable children. (Ok, it's always a perfect day for adorable children. But they're expected to be on display on Mother's Day.) Sometimes you can work in the Julia Ward Howe angle, sometimes you're lucky to convince people to come to church between the breakfast-in-bed hilarity and the overcrowded Mother's Day Brunch. (And yes, the restauranteurs tell us that it IS the most popular day for people to eat out. Meanwhile, Father's Day is high on the list of most popular days to barbecue. But I'll blog about that holiday next month.)
Every year I claim that I'll get the menfolk to handle it. And most often they are happy to sign up to help delegate the children and prepare and serve tiny sandwiches and succulent fruit, to scoop up endless cups of punch and a fussing preschooler. But I've yet to find the right guy to handle the craft project, whether it's paper and glue or bath powder or clay hands. Maybe I'll put this on my August list of volunteer organization, as opposed to waiting for the spring...and I might actually get a Mother's Day gift that's an actual surprise. But today I need to get to work, arranging the materials for lots of construction paper chalice vases and 'let me help' flowers.
But what was my point? Ah, yes. Mother's Day. Or, depending on the mood I'm in, Mothers' Day. Or Mothers Day. Every year the RE children do something special for their mothers and the many other nurturers in the congregation. It's a perfect day for a little tea party after service, for small handmade gifts and adorable children. (Ok, it's always a perfect day for adorable children. But they're expected to be on display on Mother's Day.) Sometimes you can work in the Julia Ward Howe angle, sometimes you're lucky to convince people to come to church between the breakfast-in-bed hilarity and the overcrowded Mother's Day Brunch. (And yes, the restauranteurs tell us that it IS the most popular day for people to eat out. Meanwhile, Father's Day is high on the list of most popular days to barbecue. But I'll blog about that holiday next month.)
Every year I claim that I'll get the menfolk to handle it. And most often they are happy to sign up to help delegate the children and prepare and serve tiny sandwiches and succulent fruit, to scoop up endless cups of punch and a fussing preschooler. But I've yet to find the right guy to handle the craft project, whether it's paper and glue or bath powder or clay hands. Maybe I'll put this on my August list of volunteer organization, as opposed to waiting for the spring...and I might actually get a Mother's Day gift that's an actual surprise. But today I need to get to work, arranging the materials for lots of construction paper chalice vases and 'let me help' flowers.
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