Saturday, September 3, 2011


I wish dogs could preach.

What am I saying?  I wish dogs could run for office and were in charge of all parking enforcement. I love dogs.  Who doesn’t?

Even “cat people” appreciate the steady, non-judgmental, loyalty and devotion of dogs.  I can’t say that “dog people” are always so open-minded in return. But is this the “dog person’s” problem, or does it point to failings in the cat?

Hang on - I don’t wanna get into all that.  This Blermon (blog-sermon) is supposed to be about Dogs preaching, not “Why Cats Can’t Be Deacons”.  Stay focused.  Everybody just calm down out there.

I guess the biggest challenge for dogs preaching (after the grief they’d no doubt catch from all the other Whiny Human Preachers), would be the fact that dogs can’t really talk. Talking is an important requirement to effective preaching, and let’s face it, dogs don’t really have that one down.

I know you THINK your dog talks, but he doesn’t.  Not really.  One time I had a dog who said, “I love what you’ve done with the garage, let’s eat pizza.”  But it only happened once, and I think he was being condescending.

There are only 2 examples in the Bible of animals talking: Balaam’s donkey, and the Garden of Eden snake, and neither one of those really worked out great.  Imagine how different things would be if Eve had met a talking dog instead of the snake. 

DOG: “HEY, I KNOW!  Let’s eat THIS fruit!

EVE: “Can’t Mr. Bojangles.  God said not to.”

DOG: “But...”

EVE: “No!”


EVE: “No, Mr. Bojangles!  NO!  No, no, no.”

DOG:  “OK, sorry, my bad.  Hey, I KNOW!  Let’s go chase something up a tree and then pee on stuff instead.”

What a better world it would have been. 

Dog sermons would be FUN too.  They’d have great stories, and probably include a nap in the middle.  When they did their hospital visits, they wouldn’t ask a lot of questions about your surgery, they’d just curl up next to you and lick your IV.  And if anybody got lost down river during a baptism, a good, ‘ole Dog Preacher could retrieve them, no problem. 

I’m sorry to say that chances are this Sunday you will be listening to a human Preacher.  Try to not look disappointed.  Human preachers can be OK.  They certainly try hard.  Do your best to give them at least as much of a chance as you would give a guest Beagle Preacher.

And who knows?  Afterwards, your human Preacher might really appreciate a little tummy rub or a nice, hard ear scratch along with a little, “Good boy!  What a nice sermon!  Good boy!  Good boy!  Wanna cookie!?  Come on!  Let’s go outside and chase something up a tree and pee on stuff.”

It might just be what your Preacher has been dying to hear you say.

As together we stand and sing.