JUST FOR FUN

Here’s something fun you can try at home.

STEP 1: Get yourself Blurch (blog- church) and begin Bleaching (blog-preaching) on it.  Do that for about 4 months or so, every day, without fail.

STEP 2: Once the ideas of what to Bleach about start to go a little dry, do some traveling, talk to some people, spend some time reading some newspapers and books.  Really work hard at getting something fresh to say to your Blongregation (blog-congregation).

STEP 3: Get yourself set up and ready to Bleach: adjust your computer just the way you like it, have some coffee handy, get some jazz goin’ in the background, sit in a comfy chair.

STEP 4: Begin typing.

STEP 5: Four seconds after you begin typing, have 14 guys from the Department Of Waterworks set up camp 2 feet outside your window and begin conducting the Opening Ceremonies for the Jackhammer Olympics.

STEP 6: Have this competition continue for the next 7 hours.  Be sure to include the ever-present BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP sound of 3 trucks constantly backing up, the riotous laughter of workers, and of course the sweet sound of competitive, dueling jackhammers.

STEP 7: Begin typing IN ALL CAPS SO THAT YOU CAN HEAR WHAT IS GOING ON INSIDE YOUR BRAIN!!!!!!  KEEP THIS GOING UNTIL YOU’RE PRETTY SURE THERE ARE ELVES LIVING UNDER YOUR COUCH WHO ARE TRYING TO GET YOU TO PLAY MONOPOLY WITH THEM!!!!  WHAT?!?!  I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!!  WHAT??!!  I SAID I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!!!  WHAT???!!!!

STEP 8: Stop typing and walk to a nearby window.  Make sure that the window is in the CLOSED position.

STEP 9: Take a deep breath and then place your head completely THROUGH the closed window.  Do this a number of times, until you start to feel faint.

STEP 10: Wrap your head in a towel and then drive yourself to the Emergency Room.

STEP 11: Receive medical attention for the massive, self-inflicted lacerations to your head. 

STEP 12: While in the recovery room, drink some grape juice and eat a couple of Fig Newtons.  Then try to take a short nap.  Why not?  You’re paying for it.

STEP 13: Return home late that night and finish typing your Blermon (blog-sermon) sans the Jackhammer Olympics.   

CAUTION: at this point you may no longer remember what it was you were trying to type in the first place.  You may also not have the use of your right hand.

Mix well.

Let stand for 20 minutes.

Post online.

Serves 34.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

QUIET PIG

Let’s face it.  The world would be a better place if everybody had a Quiet Pig.

Is this controversial teaching?  Am I the first Preacher to say this?  Probably so.  What else would you expect?  I’m not like a lot of Preachers.  I’m not afraid to let people know that I for one am “Pro Pig” when it comes to Quiet Pig.

When I was a kid I had a little, plastic, pink pig that I liked to carry around with me named Quiet Pig. He was really smooth and fit right in the palm of my hand. I loved Quiet Pig.  But Quiet Pig wasn’t for everybody.  He had pretty high standards as to who could hold him and who couldn’t. 

Simply put: If you wanted to HOLD Quiet Pig, you had to BE Quiet Pig.  This is isn’t always easy to pull off - especially if you’re 3 years old.  Or, over 53.

The great thing about Quiet Pig was he only came out on certain occasions. You’d usually see him pop up all of sudden in church or at weddings, right before you were about to bust out and start acting like a maniac, drinkin’ all the communion grape juice or playin’ Ring Around The Rosey with some poor bride’s gown. 

Right at that critical moment, my Mother would pull Quiet Pig out of her purse and just look at me. I was practically hypnotized just by the sight of him.  Once I saw his beautiful, shiny, pink, plastic porkiness I would immediately stop whatever squirmmin’ I was doin’, shut my mouth and just wait further instructions. 

I knew that before I could touch him, my Mother was gonna make sure I understood what a big deal this was. Quiet Pig meant business.  It was time to pipe down.  No peace, no pig.  No Pig...a spanking was next.  Guaranteed.  So there were plenty of reasons to pay attention.

The minute I had Quiet Pig in my hand, I immediately became calm and quiet and good for hours on end.

I’m thinking of sending a crate of Quiet Pigs to the Middle East...and maybe a couple of Grumpy Elders I know.

Whatever it takes.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

CHUCK CONNORS AND GOLIATH

David had his slingshot and Goliath.  I had my Chuck Connors Cowboy In Africa lunch pail and a guy named Mike Musconey.

And it came to pass in those days that there was an evil giant, a 6th grader, named Musky. 

And behold Musky was strong and mean, and stood head and shoulders above all the others.  And he did mock and persecute the kids of the 5th grade all the days of their lives. 

And upon every morning he did stealeth their lunch money and every evening he did trippeth them in the hallways and then he just laughethed when they did fall upon the ground.  And there was none who could stand against him in all the land, no not one.  And behold there was fear throughout the land.

And it came to pass, that there arose in those days, a 5th grader who was quiet, and with a large, round head that was made mostly of bone, that was crew-cutted and thick, by the name of Brother Preacher. And he did spendeth most of his days pretending to be anywhere else besides school - usually as a spy or an undercover cop, a cowboy.

And it came to pass that one day while young Brother Preacher and his companion Jimmy Menke (a skinny and aspiring astronaut) made their way home from school, that they happened upon the evil giant Musky and his raggedy band of evil torturers.  And behold they were much afraid.

Then did Jimmy Menke saith unto Brother Preacher, “Let us turn now from this path of death unto another path lest we be slaughtered here like so many baby pigs.”

But Brother Preacher saith unto him, “I cannot turn away from this path, for I knoweth not of another way home and behold my mother will whip me if I’m lateth.”

And as they spoke, Musky the Giant did leap upon them with a shout and saith unto them, “Giveth unto me your lunch money lest I bludgeon you with my fist and mocketh you as a 5th grader!”

Then did Brother Preacher saith unto him, “Have mercy on us, oh great Musky, for we are weak and thou art strong, and we have no lunch money to give you.  For behold, it is now already 3:20 in the afternoon and lunch is over.  And see here my Chuck Connors Cowboy in Africa lunch pail -- I don’t ever have lunch money.  I eat cold lunch.”

“Then you must die,” saith Musky unto them, "And with a great dieing you will die.  Somethin' like that."

So did Musky smiteth Brother Preacher thrice upon his huge head and with all his might.  But Brother Preacher did not fall, for his head was large and round and filled mostly of bone. 

And Musky looked upon him with bewilderment and saith unto his companions, “Behold, who is this 5th grader that he did not fall crying onto the ground like the others?  Is he human?”

“He is human,” saith Jimmy Menke, “But he can also taketh a punch.  Behold your strikes are unto him like so many gnats upon a stone.”

Then did Brother Preacher raise up his Chuck Connors Cowboy in Africa lunch pail and he did smiteth Musky swiftly and directly one time across the face.  And so great was the power of that smiting that the thermos did fly out from inside the lunch pail and nearly hit Jimmy Menke in the footeth. 

And behold Musky looked at Brother Preacher and saith nothing. 

Then did Jimmy Menke saith unto Brother Preacher, “Behold we are now dead.  Behold how you have angered him.  Let us cry unto our God for mercy and to ask that He might comfort our mothers who will surely weep at our demise.”

But as he said this,  the Giant’s lip did begin to tremble greatly.  And then he began to weep, then to wail, then to bleed, and finally to run, like a baby, up unto the hill where he did lie upon the dried leaves, and tremble and flail and almost faint like a baby pig.

Then did all the children of the 5th grade come and surround Brother Preacher and Jimmy Menke with a shout and there was great rejoicing in the land for many weeks. 

And never again did Musky ever stealeth lunch money or mocketh another 5th grader.  And from that day until now, Brother Preacher always eats cold lunch.   

And Musky had to get dorky looking glasses.  Serveth him right.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

MOM'S SCHOOL OF PREACHING

I am often asked, “Brother Preacher, how in the world did you get so unbelievably talented?”

It’s an excellent question; one that I have often pondered myself at length.  It’s hard to imagine exactly how so much talent and raw personal charisma can be crammed into one humble Preacher like me.  It’s probably one reason for my huge head.  I’m not saying I’m arrogant, I just saying I have a huge head.  All that talent and charisma has to hang out somewhere.

Obviously, I was born with most of it.  I can’t remember a time when I did not have massive talent and influence.  I have a vague memory of being passed around a room and told how cute and amazing I was by everyone.  I also have a memory of the exact same thing happening when I was a little baby.  That first memory was from about two weeks ago.  Clearly my amazing-ness has always been an undeniable trait of mine.

But when it comes to pure preaching talent, I have to say that the training I received from my mother was invaluable.  She never preached herself but somehow knew how to tell me how to do it.  This was not unusual for my family.  I was also taught how to dive from my father...who didn’t know how to swim.  Which is why I tend to belly flop a LOT.

From the time I was barely able to walk, I was preaching under the tutelage of my mother.  While other kids were out playing army or climbing trees, I was in my room with my sister and my mother preaching to stuffed animals, eatin’ saltines and drinkin’ grape juice. 

PREACHER’S NOTE: NEVER baptize teddy bears.  They sink.

My mother would give notes on my pacing, my topics, even my gestures.  She was good.  She even worked out a series of signals she could do with her head that she would send me from the back of the church building to tell me if I was too loud, too quite, too fast, too slow.  She’s like a Preaching third base coach.

My best sermon back then was one about commitment.  It was called: “A Swing Or A Slide: What Kind of Christian Are You?”  (Hint: you wanna be a swing.)

One of the most valuable lessons I ever learned while enrolled in my mother’s “School Of Preaching” was the importance of ending a sermon properly.  Let’s face it: nobody ends a sermon better than me.  Don’t believe me?  Watch this...

As together we stand and sing.

BP

MONKEY PREACHER

 I heard one time that if you sat a monkey in front of a typewriter and gave him enough time, eventually he would type all the plays of William Shakespeare. 

That’s some monkey; and I’m guessing a fair amount of bananas.  I’d hate to see what an Emu would come up with.  Now that I think of it, maybe that’s how they wrote the 70’s mega-hit, “Threes Company”.  I always thought that show had a certain “monkey loose on a typewriter” feel to it.

Now, I don’t know whether there’s much to this whole “monkey typing” thing, but I’m willing to give it a shot.  So I want all the Zoo Keepers of this Blurch (blog-church) to know that I’d be willing to give some honest, hard-working, young monkey a try at writing Blermons (blog-sermons) for me.  He must be a self-starter, able to work with deadlines and wear pants.  I’ll provide the computer and a tire swing.  I’ll need a semi-daily Blermon (make that “daily”) roughly 2 minutes in length.  Most importantly: No Tarzan jokes.

Monkey Bleaching (blog-preaching) could be a real turning point for this Blurch.  As far as I know, it would be the only one of it’s kind in the entire Preacherhood.  Well, except for all of Pat Robertson’s stuff.  I’m pretty sure a monkey does his stuff.  And I think Benny Hinn has a goldfish writing his sermons now.  At least that what it seems like to me.

What could it hurt?  Having a monkey write my Blermons couldn’t be any worse than what I do now.  And I KNOW they’d be better than the ones I hear from a certain TV preacher who will remain nameless, but rhymes with Joel Olsteen.  For now, let’s just call him Mole Tolsteen.

The only draw back to Monkey Preaching would be finding a monkey who could actually pull off an award-winning Blermon.  I mean, nobody ever said “put a monkey at a computer and give him enough time and a Blermon will pop out”.  All that’s ever been promised was the Shakespeare stuff.  Personally, I prefer my Blermons and sermons to be Bible-y in nature.  Shakespeare just makes my head hurt, though some of it DOES remind me of King James. 

Of course, all of this is a mute point if whatever monkey I get to write Blermons refuses to also do hospital visits.  

As together we stand and sing.

BP

ZACCHAEUS

LUKE 19:1-10 tells the story of a tax collector from the town of Jericho named Zacchaeus (or Zack-EE-us...at least that’s how us Preachers promenounce it).

The story of Zacchaeus has always been one of my personal favorites ever since I was a little kid. 

For one, Zacchaeus is a cool name.  With the proper attention to costuming, he could have easily been transformed into some kind of a super hero.  I also had a dog named Zacchaeus once.  I also had a dog named Boo-Puppy.  But Boo-Puppy isn’t in the Bible.  Anyhow...

The story of Zacchaeus is also one of the few Bible stories that comes with it’s own song.  This is super handy if you happen to be a Preacher who forgot your Bible...which I happen to be most of the time.  The lyrics go like this:

"Zacchaeus was a wee little man

And a wee little man was he

He climbed up in a sycamore tree

For the Lord he wanted to see

And when the Lord came passing by 

He looked up in the tree

And He said, 'Zacchaeus,

You come down from there!

For I'm going to your house today!

For I'm going to your house today!'"

OK, not a great rhyming scheme and the meter can be a little tricky.  Rogers and Hart it ain’t.  Still, there aren’t any “Jesus and the Fig Tree” songs that I know of, so boo hoo.

As a kid, this story had everything I loved: Zacchaeus was short; I was too.  Zacchaeus loved climbing trees; I was always in a tree.  Not much has changed.

As an adult, this story continues to resonate for me - but for different reasons.  In spite of some fairly significant strikes against him, Zacchaeus was determined to see the Lord.  So he did what others might have considered an undignified, certainly unconventional act, and climbed a tree. 

No doubt there would have been hecklers, mockers.  If you think the sight of the town’s short, despised, evil, little tax collector trying to climb a tree, didn’t produce some major hits, you don’t know how hated guys in Zack’s profession were in those days (they were considered traitors - so what’s new?).  Just seeing him struggle to get up in the tree would have been the perfect time for some well-placed, hurtful “comments” from his “fans”, to say the least.

But Zacchaeus prevailed.  He kept climbing.  And for his trouble, he got to have the Lord for a dinner guest.  Tradition says he got even more than that.

Um...is any of this getting through to anybody yet?

As together we stand and sing.

BP

SATURDAY NIGHT

At times like these (late on Sauturday evening when I haven't quite got my sermon together for Sunday yet), I love to sing  wonderful hits from the fifties.

Naturally, I change the words just a little bit so that they might speak a little bit more to my fellow Preachers who  find themselves in a similar situation, and just realized what day it is.  This one's for YOU guys!

The folllowing award-winning lyrics should be sung to that tune "Well, It's Saturday Night".  At least I think that's what its called.  Whatever.  Who cares?  Good luck, fellas!

Well it's Saturday night

And I ain't got no sermon, 

Ain't got no sermon 

For my church on Sunday.

Oh how I wish 

I could steal one from Olsteen

But his are way too lame.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

IT HAPPENED (PART 2)

WARNING:  For those of you trying to read this without first reading "It Happened - Part 1" have no one to blame but yourselves.  For those of you who HAVE read Part 1...here we go!

Welcome to Part 2, everybody!

Isn't this exciting?

Sigh.  

Guess I kinda said everything I was gonna say on this in Part 1.  Still, Part 1 wouldn't have worked without Part 2 so...here it is!

How exciting.

Poor Joel Olsteen.  I remain out of his reach.  I can out preach him with one Bible tied behind my back; and do so on a consistently devastating basis.

I hope all the Blembers (blog-members) who were affected by yesterday's "Day of No Blermon" can forgive me.  Surely you can see now that it was all part of my master plan.  I only did what I HAD to do in order to have this historic DOUBLE BLERMON DAY.

Sigh.  

OK.  Good job, everybody.  I'm gonna go eat a donut now.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

IT HAPPENED (PART 1)

Well, it happened.  They said it was bound to. 

Naturally, my critics are giddy.  The Blembers (blog-members) of this Blurch (blog-church) heartbroken.

After over 185 consecutive days of consistently inspiring, pretty much Bible based, award-winning, world-class Bleaching (blog-preaching) we have been forced to witness the bloody, heartbreaking demise of one of the most influential Blogs ever typed.

Yesterday, for the first time in over 185 days, The Semi-Daily Preacher posted...NO Blermon from Brother Preacher. 

Easy.   Breathe.  You may wanna sit down.  Its gonna be OK.  I know what I’m doin’.  I’m a Bleacher (blog-preacher) for cryin’ out loud.

I know many of you are devastated by this disturbing development.  There have been reports of hundreds of hospitalizations from Blembers across the country, several who lost consciousness.  There have been some suicide attempts, some riots, and one guy in Texas who joined the Marine Corp to “take back what America lost.” 

Who’s to blame for this travesty!?  What’s next?!  No Christmas?  No gravy for biscuits!?  It must be the end of the world!!!  Surely the 3rd rider of the Apocalypse has just mounted up and headed out to make all the whole milk in the world skim.

And yet...be of good cheer.

What you THINK happened is actually part of a huge, semi-global, master-minded scheme to take the Blembers of this Blurch to heights of excitement Joel Olsteen couldn’t even dream of.   Joel Olsteen is lame.

Unbeknownst to even my wife Gidget, you are all a part of one of the most elaborate and exciting experiments in all of Bleaching (blog-preaching).  You are right now in the middle of experiencing PART ONE of the world’s first....

DOUBLE BLERMON DAY!!!

You say, “I don’t get it?  This seems stupid and lame.”

But as the voyeur once said to his trainee, “Hide and watch.”

Part 2 of this exciting adventure is coming in a matter of minutes!!

Stay tuned!

As together we stand and sing.

BP

WHEN BLERMONS BLITTER

WARNING: Some of you won't get this.

What happens when Blermons (blog-sermons) look like Bleets (blog-tweets) on Blitter (blog-Twitter)?

Brother Preacher is...

Bleaching a Blermon.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

SONGS TO LIVE BY

There’s a lot you can learn from the lyrics of a song.  Well not EVERY song.  There are some new church songs that leave me scratchin’ my head...

“Glory, glory, praise, praise, glory, wonderful, gloriness, praisey, praisey, praise joy.”

I have no idea what these words are trying to say, and frankly I don’t even care anymore.

Some of the best tunes, with some of the best lyrics I’ve EVER heard were tunes I learned while still a child in Sunday School:

“Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

I feel better already.

“Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.”

Think I’m covered in this one too.

“If the devil’s in the way I will run right over him AND I won’t tag a long behind.” 

Which makes sense.  If you ever run over the Devil, you don’t really wanna hang around afterwards to see what happens next. It’s really best to high tail it out of there.

The grown up church songs were pretty good too.

“And he walks with me and he talks with me and he tells me I am his own.”

I should sing this one more often.  I should also walk more.

“Turn your radio on...”

Between you and mean I haven’t turned on my radio in 3 years.  I’m an IPOD guy.

“We will come rejoicing bringing in the sheaves.”   

Hey, whatever a “sheaves” is, I’m glad you brought it in and that it made you happy.

Of course church songs aren’t the only tunes with good things to say.  One of my favorite Rap Songs has proved to be both practical and wise.  The great Jay Z raps...

“If you shoot my dog, I’ma kill your cat.”

Personally, I appreciate this straightforward, no nonsense information.  I’m also glad I don’t currently own a cat.

“Doo Doo Doo, dah, dah, dah -  is all I want to say to you.”

I think Sting must have heard me preach a time of two before.

But when it comes to just flat out life lessons being told I have to turn to the great Johnny Cash who sang these powerful words...

“In the garbage disposal of you dreams I’ve been ground up dear

“On the river of your plans I’m up the creek

“Up the elevator of your future I’ve been shafted

“On the calendar of your events I’m last week

“I’ve been washed down the sink of your “conscience

“In the theater of your love I lost my part

“And now you say you’ve got me out of your conscience

“I’ve been flushed from the bathroom of your heart.”

There’s really nothing to say to that one.  When you hear a song like “I’ve Been Flushed From The Bathroom Of Your Heart” you’ve really said it all.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

THE WRITER'S BLOCK MYTH

I wanna talk for just a few minutes on the myth of writer's bloc...

As together we stand and sing.

BP

MY HOLY LAND EXPERIENCE

I recently returned from visiting the Holy Land.  It was quite an experience.

Actually is WAS an experience.  I mean it was THE experience.  THE Holy Land Experience...Orlando, Florida.

What I’m saying is, it wasn’t the REAL Holy Land, OK?  I’m talkin’ about the one in Orlando. 

Not quite the same thing I guess, but close enough.   I WILL say that the language barrier wasn’t nearly as tough to overcome as I thought it was gonna be.  All you really had to know was Gracias and maybe El Bano.  And nobody asked me for my Passport.  So THAT was handy.  Can’t guarantee it’ll be that way NEXT year.

Oh, what a feeling it was to pretend to walk the streets where Jesus didn’t walk, and to eat the Jerusalem Jelly Bean Manna Munchers that the Apostles would’ve LIKED to have eaten if they had HAD Jelly Bean Manna Munchers back then!

By the way, the Feed The 5,000 Fish Sandwich was one of the best fish sandwiches I’ve EVER had.   They made it with 5 pieces of bread, two fried filet-o-fishes and a fig.  I have to admit it pretty much just fed Gidget and me though.  So that was a bit of a disappointment.  Next time I’ll pass on the Paradise Pickles.  Gave me Galilean Gas.

The Lot’s Gift and Snack Shop was a big hit.  It was quite a thrill to think of the Apostle Paul or maybe Zachariah sipping Sadducee Sarsaparilla out of the same Sea of Galilee Sippy Cups we got.  Had a little, tiny Blue and white plastic Jesus walkin’ on the top of the Pepsi.  Amazing.  I wish I knew how they did that.

And the Velvet Elvis On A Camel was a big surprise.  I don’t think they have that in the “other” Holy Land.  Come to think of it, the “other” Holy Land kinda stinks.

Loved getting my Mini Scroll Bible from the Scriptorim-teria.  It’s the only Bible I have that’s also a scroll.  Still not convinced I’ll be able to preach from it, though.  It’s a little on the unruly side.  Tends to come apart like broken Slinky.  I wouldn’t guarantee it for a “Find the Bible Verse First” contest, put it that way.

But oh, what a trip!  If you can’t get to the real Holy Land this year, try doing the one in Orlando.  It’s closer, cleaner, and has better hot dogs - I mean Damascus Donkey Dogs. 

Plus, you’re just a hop and a skip away from Gator World and Shells-a-Plenty.  Oh, to sit on the gators that the Apostles must have sat upon, and to hear the book of Job through a seashell! 

I love Florida.  It’s weird down there.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

GREAT BLERMON BEGINNINGS

Once again Sunday is upon us.

As I have done so often in the past, today I make of myself an instrument of humble service to my fellow Preachers out there, who are frantically  scouring their old college Bible class notes for sermon ideas for tomorrow's lesson.  Rest easy.  Once again, you've come to the right place.  I'm among the top 3 Preachers I know (actually, the top two - but you didn't hear that from me).


So today I want to provide you Preachers out their with my "Top Ten Best Sermon Starters".  They are pulpit tested, and Preacher approved, and guaranteed to get you started preaching even if you don't have a sermon.  These things are like sermon bullion.  Just start saying these words as soon as you mount the pulpit, and SOMEthing should catch fire - or you'll GET fired, either way.  

Of course, if you happen to want to use these Sermon Starters online then they would be Blermon Starters...but most of you already knew that.  Anyhow...here they are:

10.) What a joy it is to...

9.) My wife Gidget...

8.) Turn in your Bibles if you would to...

7.) Now THAT's what I call a pot luck announcement!

6.) How many here love grape juice?  You're in luck...

5.) Ever seen a Winne The Pooh tattoo?

4.) Today I wanna preach on the "99 Reasons to..."

3.) Where am I?  Any ideas? 

2.) Who are YOU people? 

1.) Blah, blah, blah, blah, husker du, on 10, hike!



As together we stand and sing.

BP

PREACHER PUZZLER

See if you can identify what's missing from this Blermon: 









As together we stand and sing.

BP

SUPER PREACHER

The following is an excerpt from my upcoming screenplay, "THE ADVENTURES OF SUPER PREACHER".  I am accepting funding now.  BTW "(OS)" means "off screen").

 FADE IN:

INT. SUPER PREACHER'S OFFICE. DAY

Super Preacher walks into his office and looks at his vast preaching bookcase.

SUPER PREACHER

Gridget!  Have you seen my Strong's Concordance?  I have to finish my lesson for Wednesday night!  I'm running out of time!  Gridget?  Gridget!!!

GRIDGET (OS)

Did you look in the bookcase?

SUPER PREACHER

Yes!  I'm looking at it right now and...Oh! There it is.

Super Preacher pulls the Strong's Concordance off the bookshelf, opens it up and begins to read it.

GRIDGET (OS)

Did you find it?

Super Preacher doesn't hear her.  Keeps reading.

GRIDGET (OS)

I said, "Did you find it".  Preacher?  Preacher?!!  HEY!!!

SUPER PREACHER

What?!!

GRIDGET (OS)

Did you find it?!!

SUPER PREACHER

What?!!

GRIDGET (OS)

Did...you...find...it?!!

SUPER PREACHER

I said, "yes"!

GRIDGET (OS)

Well, why didn't you say so?

SUPER PREACHER

I DID!

GRIDGET (OS)

No you didn't.  What?!

SUPER PREACHER

What?!

GRIDGET (OS)

What?!!!

SUPER PREACHER

I can't understand what you're saying!!!!

Something falls out of the concordance.  Super Preacher picks it up and examines it.  He is upset and begins to shake.

SUPER PREACHER

Gridget!  I just found my Easter Sermon from 2 years ago!  It was in the concordance!  It was in the concordance!!!!!  AHHHHH!!!!

GRIDGET (OS)

What?!

Fade To Black

Roll Credits

Of course, this is better with the other scenes.  

As together we stand and sing.

BP

WHAT CAN I SAY?

I got nothin'.

As together we stand and sing.

BP 

THOUGHT OF THE DAY #11

Today's "Thought of the Day" comes to us from a Blember (blog-member) of this Blurch (blog-church) named Cassie, from Winnebago, North Dakota.  Cassie thinks... 

"I wonder what BP's Blermon (blog-sermon) will be today?"

Cassie, now you know.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

TURNED TABLES

This is going to be a highly unusual Blermon (blog-sermon) today.

As most of you know, normally this is the place you come to everyday for award-winning, spiritual teachings, world-class poetry, and first-class commentary on the state of Bible Hour Puppetry. There's no other Blurch (blog-church) like it on the net.  Or IN the net for that matter.

I am the kind of Bleacher (blog-preacher) who gives and gives and gives some more, on a semi-daily basis, just shy of it hurting.  Joel Olsteen  barely pulls THAT off even once a week.  Gimme a break. He calls THAT preaching?  Anyhow...

But today is different.  Today instead of GIVING of myself and my vast knowledge, instead of imparting universal truths that I pluck from my brain like so many cherries from a Hi-Ho Cherry-o game board, today I must ask YOU, the Blembers (blog-members) of this Blurch for help.

You see, we have another TOKENS show coming up very soon and once again, I have been overloaded in my writing and sermonizing duties.  Sadly, when this happens I tend to phone in my Blermons, much like I'm doing now.  Because when I am in TOKENS mode I kinda go into an altered state of creativity and innovation, the likes of which the world has never known.  I don't shower, I don't shave, I forget to eat.

So I'm just wondering if someone out there could help. 

While I keep typing, I need someone to go pick up my mail and put new tags on my car. 

I also wouldn't turn away a nice, homemade egg salad sandwich and a milk shake.  Easy on the mayo.


Thanks.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

WHEN NO WORDS WILL DO...

9/11

As together we stand and sing.

BP

THE FORGOTTEN BLERMON

It's Saturday night

Been busy all day

Funny how time 

Can just slip away

When you ride every ride 

With a hobo named Herman

There's no time  to write

Or Bleach a good Blermon

So now that I'm back

I focus my shooter

And type out some lines

Like a monkey computer

It's not Hemingway 

Or Cronkite or Paley

But sometimes that happens

When you Bleach semi-daily.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

BIG CHURCH

I drove past a church building the other day and nearly broke my neck tryin’ to take it all in.  The thing was huge.  I mean...monstrous.  Every part of it looked like it was trying to out do the other parts. 

From what I could tell, the entryway doubled as a roller rink; or possibly a helicopter school landing site.  The windows were so huge; if attendance ever dropped off, they could install poles with speakers on them and kick-start a new drive-in theater trend. With the correct lighting, the steeple was high enough for Governors in Russia to see IT.  The driveway was so looong and sooo wiiide.  I only wished they would’ve gone for the full effect and just manned up and covered the thing in gold.

About the moment I had thought I’d seen all there was to see of this gargantuan edifice, I noticed that there was sitting directly next to it ANOTHER HUGE church building.  I mean...HUGE.

They weren’t a few yards away from each other, either.  They were literally NEXT to each other.  Had it not ruined the big time look they were both goin’ for, they coulda thrown some string between the two buildings and talked to each other through soup cans.  They coulda shared that golden driveway. 

They were different denominations, but I’m pretty sure it was the same builder.  And clearly the second building was the builder’s second try.  And he had gotten good.

The first building was just a sampler plate; a test site.  It was the one with all the poor people in it who really couldn’t afford the “BIG” stuff.  That second building, THAT was the one.  Whatever they were preaching inside there was the place you wanted to be. They had it goin’ on.

As I sat there taking in the biggest example of steeple envy the world has ever seen, I couldn’t help but hope that after all the planning, and spending, and painting, and shinning it had taken to construct those two humble houses of prayer, I could only hope that after all of that hard work and sacrifice that...

...God could finally see them.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

THE REAL STUFF

There aren’t too many people I wanna meet.

Of course when I say “people” I mean “famous people”.  There are NO regular people I wanna meet.  Except my Mailman.  I’d LOVE to meet him.

But when it comes to famous people I’d like to meet the list is very short.  I think part of the reason is because what MAKES a famous person famous these days, isn’t what it used to be. 

It used to be you got famous for actually DOING things.  You know, AMAZING things that no one else had ever done before.  Things like: inventin’ a flyin’ machine, liberatin’ a county, discovering a continent, curing a deadly disease.

You could also become famous for possessing a thing called TALENT.  You would sing in a way, or write in a way, or create something in a way that hit people straight between the eyes and left them in a puddle of realization and inspiration so deep and profound that their lives were forever changed just by brushing up against what you did. 

In either case, there was usually always a huge amount of sacrifice, and hard work, and life-long dedication involved in the pursuit of that goal.   And the goal was not necessarily to “become famous” but rather to “invent a flying machine” or “uncover a great truth” or “make ‘em laugh at themselves 'til they couldn’t breathe”. 

Once those lofty goals were accomplished - THEN the people who had accomplished them often found themselves “famous”.  A “hero”.  But it was never the main goal.  It was residual.  Secondary.  A side dish.

Now days, you can pretty much shove a peanut up your nose and score your own TV show.  To go from “face in the crowd” to “international star” takes about 9 seconds.  By the weekend you could be hosting the Grammys whether you have the ability to host the Grammys or not.  What you CAN do is shove a peanut up your nose.  How exciting.

I don’t know about you, but for me a peanut up the nose is less impressive than “writing the Constitution”.

It’s a strange time to be a hero; to be out there doing great things, producing awesome stuff, exploring new worlds.  It’s strange because THOSE types of people don’t get the press they used to.  But I don’t think that’s the hero’s fault. I think it’s ours.

It’s as if we’ve forgotten the criteria for what it is to BE “famous”, a “hero”.   We’ve gotten confused as to what and who we should be inspired by, and what we should aspire to be like. 

We’ve rewarded each other for “pretend accomplishment” so long we’re beginning to forget what real accomplishment looks like.  We’ve called cute puppy videos “awesome” so many times, that we don’t have a word that describes the truly awesome anymore.

Well, forgive me for saying’ this but I just don’t think I’ll need to add the “peanut up the nose” guy’s autograph to my collection anytime soon.  For one, I have shoved countless peanuts up my own nose, and frankly, I’m just not that impressed with a guy who does it with only one. 

Plus, I’d rather save some space in my book for when the real thing comes along.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

SPEED BLEACHING

EDITOR'S NOTE: 

The following Blermon was not spell checked.  

Read at your own risk.

I’m pretty sure this is first time anyone has ever tried to do this.

Well, a regular Precher may have tried it, but Im pretty sure this is the first time a Bleacher (blog-preacher) like me has attempted to finsih a Blermon (blog-sermon) before his wife (Gidget) is ready to walk out the door to do errands (a trip I have been requested to also accompany her on).

For those of you who are NOt a Bleacher, and NOt married, and not married to Gidget - you really have no idea the challenges in this thing I’m trying t accomplish.  Things could go bad realfast.

You see, about 5 minutes ago, Gidget said she was going to “get dressed and go”.  When I asked how long that was she said, “About  5 minutes.”

Now for many wives (or husbands for that matter) - this could mean closer to 20 minutes or maybe even a half an hour.  In Gidget’s case - it means 5 minutes.  On the nose.  She can put herself together faster than any woman I know and come out lookin’ better than Sara Lee at a Cake Contest. 

BUT...once she GETS ready - there are a variety of things that can distract her from her final departure time: going through the mail, a last minute clean of the shower, some artistic or business flourish to some long forgotten project that dared to find itself on the coffee table.  She IS amazing.

So I got it in my head to see if I could write an entire Blermon (with scripture and semi-point) in the time it took her to finally be ready to walk out the door; and it is these little distractions AFTER she gets ready tat I am counting on to buy me the time I so desperatly need.

Obviously my “speed typing” is dicey, at best.  So if I don’t give mysefl enough time at the end for spell chaecking I could be in big trouble.

Also there is the danger of slapping a scripture on this Blermon that makes sence and that I cn still quote good enough so that I don’t have to waste valuable time looking it up.

So hear I am toiling away - not sure when Gidget will come and tell me she’s ready to go.  Now what’s a scripture I could use for...OH!  I got it! 

As it says in Mathew...”Behold the Master comes when no man knows the hour!”   

Shoot.  that’s not quite it.  I gotto go look this one up...hold on...

OK, that stinks...I just lost internet and cant get on line to look up my scripture.  Since I went internet I have forgotten how to look scriptures up in my concordance - THAT is a LOT of spelling work.  Lemme see if I can get a better connectin in another part of the house.  Hold on...

OK - I'm back.  Found it -  John 9:4 - (though this wasn’t really what I think I was looking for - have to MAKE it work).

In John 9:4 it says, “We must quickly carry out the tasks assigned us by the one who sent us. The night is coming, and then no one can work.”

Not bad.  Pretty close.Shoot!  Needs more.  b Right back.

OK, back...

And in Matthew 24:44 it says:

“So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect.”

I think the combo sorta works.  Sums up the situatin pretty dang good!  I’m a genius.  I have know idea what I’m writting! QUICK!  She’s getting her purse...Oh no!  She just touched me on the back...we’re getting close.  Come on, Gidget, check that cell phone one more time!

BIG POINT SET UP: 

SO what are these verses telling us?  All this working before it too late stuff?  

BIG POINT: Isn’t it that way with Gidget and me...right now?  (pause) Powerful verse.  (pause) Powerful Blermon.

That's really wasn;t bad.

I have to say - aside from looking up the verse - not bad.  Maybe I should try to write anoth..OOPs - she’s ready - gotta go try and post this before she...!  SORRY, NO TIME FOR SPELL CHECK!1

As we stand together and sing.

BP

PEOPLE PROBLEMS

Let’s face it, Preaching can be tough.  Especially the way I do it. Not everybody brings in a donkey and a replica of the Sanhedrin on Palm Sunday.  

But there are other reasons.

As I have described in countless Blermons (blog-sermons) before, Preaching is not for the faint of heart.  It is not for the thin of skin, or the touchy of feelings.  Preachers have to be tough.  

It reminds me of the words of that old gospel tune: “Weenies are for buns, not pulpits”.  And really, the same can be said for hamburgers...though I don’t think it’s quite as good of an illustration, or gospel song, for that matter.  Anyhow...

There are many things that can make Preaching tough.  For example: the sermons are a pain in the neck.  They just keep comin’ at you every week.  You can preach the best sermon of your life on one Sunday and then guess what?  Tuesday comes around and you’ve suddenly gotta pick up, find your concordance and your “Cool Quotes Book”, do it all again!  It’s exhausting! 

And I don’t know about you but all that READING really gets on my ever last nerve.  If preaching didn’t have all that reading and studying attached to it, it really wouldn’t be a half-bad gig.  

Unfortunately, reading is not going away anytime soon.  So we might as well just settle down and learn the alphabet now - which is what I’m doing. 

NOTE: learn the “Alphabet Song”, it’s easier that way.

But besides the sermons, there are the classes and the visits, and all the Pot Lucks you gotta pray over.  And if I have to ruin one more suit with fishy lake water, from baptizin’ some kid at church camp, I may go just go cargo shorts and never look back!

But as any Preacher knows, the biggest challenge facing Preachers today is, of course, the existence of PEOPLE. 

It is PEOPLE who cause more troubles for Preachers than see-thru pulpits and Greek Lexicons COMBINED.  And yet the church is literally CRAWLIN’ with people!

When did THIS happen?  When did all these people start showin’ up in Church?  You know the ones I’m talkin’ about.  They’re always runnin’ around with all their “faults” and “failures” and “foot pain”.  The ones with all their “thoughts” and “suggestions for sermons topics” and “opinions on my ties”.  The ones that do all the whining about their family problems, and sin struggles, and the blah blah.  The ones who get sweaty and hungry and tired and then expect me to fix it. 

The Grumpy Elder people.  

THOSE people.  They drive me nuts.

I heard the other day that church attendance is starting to go down.  I fail to see the problem here.  The way I see it, the fewer people who show up for church mean fewer problems for me. 

Which is why I wanna thank the churches out there who are doing whatever they can to keep people OUT of their churches.  You are a Preachers dream.  Keep up the good work.  Keep those numbers down.  People are just problems.  Take it from me.

And for all us Preachers, I say, “Thank you”.

I’m kinda nontraditional that way.  

Unemployed.  But nontraditional.

As together we stand and sing.

BP