Shall We Gather At The River

Happy St. Patrick’s day, y’all. I’m feeling so low today that down looks like up to me. My roundball Bulldogs have embarrassed themselves in front of God knows how many people that were hoping that the Dawgs could slap on a little lipstick and turn into a Cinderella. Well they may have slipped on some lipstick, but were denied the opportunity to become the Cinderella team from the SEC.

A bajillion people watched on TV until they decided to flip the channel to their second favorite team, or just turn the darn thing off. Even if you watch another channel, the TV is still going to send little arrows to your heart as they update the score at the bottom of the screen. A bad day to be a Bulldog. 

My spirits are so low today I just might answer the altar call at The Full Gospel Original Church of God next Sunday. I might just give over my thinking to a higher power if I get the opportunity. I would have to go through some mental gymnastics to rationalize that God is pulling for Vanderbilt, but maybe that’s not true. Maybe God just hates the Bulldogs. Maybe God doesn’t hate the Bulldogs, or favor Vanderbilt. Maybe there’s gradations to God’s love and he just loves the folks in Tennessee a little bit more. Maybe that little bit of extra love, while small in Godly terms, translates to 35 points on the court. These deep theological parsings are what’s keeping me from making the type of deep life commitment to a higher power that Mulva has made. Although I can’t say that Mulva’s commitment has brought her a lot of peace consistently.

Currently things are going swimmingly at The Full Gospel Original Church of God. I take great pride in that pun considering all of the rain we’ve had recently. Point of fact, The Reverend Helen Handbasket held a special service after the regular service today to address the deluge. I believe it was summarized in the benediction when Reverend Handbasket entreated the Lord to open Heaven for souls but not to let any more rain pass through. I am told there was not a dry eye in the house at the end of the service.

It seems that the Reverend Handbasket has found a real home at our little church. The church has been packed to the rafters at every service since she took over, and salvation is at an all time high. If the tithing matches the attendance, then it won’t be long before our little church will be looking to expand. I can see the Elders making plans to maximizing the congregations purchasing power in building a house of worship that is consistent with their love of the Lord. I only hope that they manage to bring the Reverend Handbasket’s salary up to what we were paying the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread.

Currently, the Reverend Handbasket’s salary is at about 70% of her male counterpart. The Elders are explaining the differential as having to do with seniority. I say balderdash! It’s the Reverend Handbasket that’s been putting the butts in the seats. The church should be paying her what she’s worth. As Daddy used to say, “you gotta dance with them that brung you”. There is no doubt the increase in business is due to Reverend Handbasket, so pay her.

I hope the Elders can remain humble and close to their roots if they decide to expand the church. It would be a darn shame to take all of energy of all the hard working folks of our community and build something like the Crystal Palace. The folks that built this church/palace never expected it to wind up in the hands of the Catholic church, but it has. “Pride goeth before a fall”, Granny Waller used to say. Like my Bulldogs, I reckon.

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