The Church

© John Martine 2007

Every Sunday morning my mother took me there
Put on my brown leisure suit and I combed my hair
The organist was 90, the Deacon he was swell
When he told me to repent or go to hell

(Chorus)
The church ain't a building, the church ain't a place
The church ain't an organ playing 'Amazing Grace'
The church has an author in case you haven't heard
The church is his body living out his word

I've served on committees that were really fine
Argued about carpets and communion wine
The people all got angry when the sermon took too long
Please help me God where did we get it wrong?
(chorus)

I've given up the battle of changing all we've done
and look to find a new way of following the Son
I'm working out salvation with trembling and fear
Please give us eyes to see and ears to hear
(chorus)

I'm sorry Jesus that we got it wrong
And I probably should apologize for writing down this song
Teach us to feed the hungry and to become the meek
And to be your people seven days a week
(chorus)

Platitude "o" the Day

Try and remember what you're for instead of going off the deep end for what you're against.

The King James Version

1And on the northern end of the county of the gravied foods the family of John the Brownstownite entered the camp upon the back of an iron camel.

2And John's tribe, numbered fournoscore, amongst them his wife Traceth, Anthonias the son of John and John's daughter Alison.

3And lo the Lord had seen fit to snow upon the land and freezeth the water unto blackened ice. Twas slippery indeed. Darkness had fallen upon the land of John.

4And John having led the journey afar had turned the reigns of the iron camel to Traceth for the journey homeward. "Alison is weary with travel and hath fallen into a deep sleep. I shall carry my daughter to her tent" sayeth John.

5"Do ye imagine to traverse the frozen land with heavy load risking life and limb, for surely your daughter is not so weary to walk?" sayeth Traceth.

6"Verily I say unto you my wife: I am man. You are woman. Knoweth your place and silence your tongue as I do my bidding without fail for I AM MAN" sayeth John.

7 As time passed John lifted his daughter down from the beast and did carry her upon his mighty chest. Upon entering the main tent the big toe of his left foot encountered the ice that the Lord had placed upon the ground. With a loud snap John became brokenfooted with multiple fractures of the leg. Loud cries such of that of a great wounded beast were heard throughout the land of gravied foods and all who heard the wailing were afraid.

8 And so John lay upon the ground writhing in agony weeping the tears of a small girl child. "Oh Lord, why have you smote the ankle of your servant? Oucheth! I say unto thee. Why does it hurteth so freaking much? Oh man, this is really, really bad." thus sayeth John.

9 After some time the physician cut John open rendering metal unto his shattered bones and mending his wounds with string and sent him on his way. After many months all was healed and the lesson was learned. "Yes dear" now sayeth John as well as "I shall tempt the Lord's great slipperiness never again."

OK, so I broke my ankle. Yes, I should have listened to Traceth, er, I mean Tracy. I've learned several things.

1) I don't much like narcotics.
2) Messing with medical staff is fun.
3) I have a lot of friends who are trying to make me fat in this period of no exercise.
4) Ice is slippery.
5) Stairs are kryptonite.

I'll let you know if I garner any deep insights from this accident but in the meantime I'm pretty much rendered stupid from the pain medication.

You Can't Spell "Paint" without "Pain"

Can you guess what I've been up to? Hint: They know my name at the paint store.

We thought it was a swell idea to give our family room/breakfast area/kitchen a new look. And so it was but it's been three weeks of nonstop work. Tracy is not allowed near anything resembling a brush (yes, I'm anal, a perfectionist and like to work alone) so it's been a solo effort. Suffice it to say I don't want to paint anything else in the foreseeable future. Especially anything that comes in a ceiling. Specifically about 476 square feet of ceiling. Oh the humanity.

Bought a small PA system. I can't begin to tell you how cool it is to have this baby sitting in my basement. I knew it was a keeper when Tracy said "hey, you sound really good" as compliments from her in regard to my playing, singing and songwriting are, ahem, infrequent. Yes, we've been married a long time. A very long time. In fact, our wedding invitations stated that our ceremony was to be "In Color" which was quite advanced for those days. Indeed, it was very cold and there was much work to be done.

Word has leaked out that some of my band mates at Trinity have perused the ol' blog. Crap. I was going to write a lengthy entry about their general ineptitude, apathy, smell and other shortcomings but I guess that's not happening now. Of course I'm kidding (as far as you know). These folks are a blast to play with and the talent level is pretty high. We generally rock, Beavis.

The paint is dry, more blogging to come.

Who is Worthy?

My good friend Bill had his pancreas removed last Friday. He's got a family history of pancreatic cancer and things were starting to look suspicious so they decided to cut it out. A very delicate, risky and lengthy surgery. He was in for eight hours. It was successful and we're all waiting on the biopsy results. Your prayers are welcome.

Anyhoo, I got to thinking about a gathering we had at my house a couple of summers ago. My brother Pastor Mike and his family were there as was Bill and his family. Bill is hilarious, profane and bright. A sort of practicing Catholic. He didn't know my brother was a pastor. The three of us were sitting in the backyard enjoying some beers and watching the kids play. Bill was being his usual self and was stunned to find out my brother was a pastor. He peppered my brother with questions. "You're sitting around with us like a normal guy drinking beer?!" Yes, some pastors (the ones I like anyway) are quite normal, funny, and some even like to have a few beers. Human you might say. The conversation turned to love and forgiveness. Mike explained that God loves us all (keyword: all) and that we all receive God's grace. Bill argued that God couldn't forgive or love someone like him. A sinner. I could see his wheels spinning as the questions continued. I think he came away understanding that God really does care and that following some set of impossible rules is not the path to receiving grace. I shared this story with Pastor Matt over lunch today and he interrupted to say that Bill is probably the kind of guy that God especially loves. I agree.

Jesus wasn't big on rule books. Still isn't. We simply need to receive his love and act out of that love. It's not about saying some stupid magical prayer and being saved on the spot or following a rigid set of guidelines. I don't mean to say that we have carte blanche to sin like drunken sailors but if we accept his love we're that far ahead of the game. When we love someone we are compelled to try and please that person with our actions.

Jesus loves you Bill. Hell, he even loves me. It just took me about 43 years to figure that out.

I Repent

...of trying to change my church. The planks in my eyes are what I should be focusing on rather than the splinters I've been agonizing over in the collective peepers of the traditional worshippers at Zion. So this is the way it's a-gonna be. Excellent contemporary Sunday morning worship at my brother's church (Mt. Joy Trinity Lutheran) for the foreseeable future and continued membership at my old church where I will partner with Pastor Matt in the pursuit of emergent worship on Sunday evenings. We're also going to stay involved there and try to engage others in missional or educational pursuits. Heck, we might even show up on the occasional Sunday morning to kick it old school.

As for the evening worship at Zion, it's incredible. We'll have a new schedule coming out in a week or so and I'll post it.

"They put Jesus on a cross, they put a hole in JFK, they put Hitler in the driver's seat and looked the other way. Now they've got poison in the water and the whole world's in a trance, but just because we're hypnotized that don't mean we can't dance and do the Funky. The Funky Western Civilization" - Tonio K. "The Funky Western Civilization" from "Life in the Foodchain". Nothing to do with this post but hey, it's my blog.

An Open Letter to the Citizens of Bedford Falls

Dear Citizens,

Mr. Martini. I love your bar. That Nick fella is one cheery dude. Of course, in the "sans George Bedford Falls" (SGBF) you weren't around so I 'm assuming you were toast or otherwise occupied in some ne'er-do-well vocation. Perhaps you were a bootlegger like my Italian great Grandad in nearby Watkins Glen. Regardless, it's good to know that there are garlic-eaters (tip 'o' the hat to Potter) who aren't too shy to load a goat into car with their kids. By the way, what the heck was Mary thinking when she said "Mr. Martini, how about some wine" in the final scene? Does she think that since you own a bar you cart hooch around with you wherever you go and that you had enough to pour drinks for 50+ people? Thanks for busting open-da-juke-a-de-box.

Mr. Gower. Turns out you were ok, even after you administered frontier justice on young George by repeatedly smacking him on his bad ear drawing small amounts of blood. You drooled a lot when you were drunk, especially so in Martini's in SGBF but hey, that's not a crime. It was very nice of you to buy George a suitcase for not ratting you out over the poison capsules (which is a crime). Mighty nice.

Nick. Best quote ever. "We serve hard drinks for men who want to get drunk fast and we don't need no characters around to give the joint atmosphere". Of course that was in SGBF so again, you are forgiven. It was nice of you to hand out wings and to restrain yourself from belting Clarence in the face with your meaty left for a convincer.

Harry. Brother of George. Eats Committee Chairman. Athlete. Married that hot babe and took a job with her dad. Time after time you left George holding the bag. Nice. You did save a transport of soldiers and you give a mean toast so you've got that going for you.

Violet. Hootchie mama.

Carter, Bank Examiner. Hope you got to spend CHRISTMAS in ELMIRA with your FAMILY. You had very few lines but that one was delivered with panache and aplomb.

Mary Hatch Bailey. I always wondered why your vision went bad in SGBF. Perhaps lighting up like a firefly when George was around had some physiological effect that helped you maintain 20-20 vision. Apart from your assumptions about Mr. Gower's Jesus-like ability to produce wine out of nothing, you are one swell cookie.

Potter. Henry Potter. Scorner of garlic-eaters and discontented rabble. Malfeasance! Manipulation! Misappropriation of funds! You are the original Grinch. Dare I say your brain is full of spiders and YOU have garlic in your soul. I wouldn't touch you with a thirty nine and a half inch pole. It WAS kind of cool when you made George sit in the low chair and drop the cigar in his lap. Other than that, you suck eggs. And that goes for your toadies. And that goes for your other toadies too!

Uncle Billy. You're a fun loving, dimwitted lush. Don't we all have an Uncle Billy somewhere? If I were George I think I'd trust the deposits to cousin Eustice. Watch those garbage cans, William.

Clarence, ASII. Sent from God to save George. I'm sorry that you didn't get to enjoy a mulled wine, heavy on the cinnamon, light on the cloves but I am glad that SGBF Nick didn't sprawl you out like a cheap throw rug. I'm also glad you got your wings. You deserve 'em.

Zuzu. Nakesake of our wiener dog. 'Nuff said.

George Bailey. Our hero. Takes a punch pretty well. Not afraid to dive into choppy waters to save a stranger. Likes a few pops when the chips are down. Not a praying man but prays pretty well nonetheless. Bad driver. Your melt down in the living room was pretty good but you could take a few pointers from Clark Grisowld. Richest man in town. We love you man.

Peace out,
John