Category Archives: Funny

Coon Dog Funeral

by

It was a beautiful day to bury a dog.  We had a funeral up at Coon Dog Cemetery today, the organizer is a member of my church and so I was asked to give the invocation which I was happy to do.

Ray Frost brought “the Merch” down from Pennsylvania.  He was a champion Treeing Walker Hound that died sometime last year.  Mr. Frost found out about Coon Dog Cemetery and called down here to ask for information on having his dog reinterred.  Apparently one thing led to another and a funeral was organized and the press called in.

There are stringent rules for having a dog buried there, you have to prove that your dog was a true coon dog.  I’ve heard that there have been dogs exhumed when it was found out they ran deer.  Of course “the Merch” passed muster and was given a plot next to the famous statue of two dogs treeing a raccoon.

Ray and his wife arrived Sunday morning and joined us for worship and dinner afterwards.

Earlier today the casket was taken to the gravesite.  The florist van arrived with the arrangements shortly after.  People gathered and exchanged conversation about hunting or wandered through the graves reading epitaphs and taking pictures.  The pall bearers, some of Ray’s other hounds, waited patiently for the service.  A little before 11 the processional arrived from Tuscumbia. Several ladies dressed in black dresses and hats sat somberly in the front row of folding chairs.  I estimate there were about 200 in attendance (not counting dogs).

As I prepared for the service I discovered how difficult it can be to provide a prayer that is light hearted yet still reverent.  (I focussed on God’s good creation, our enjoyment of the created order and the blessings we receive through nature.)  The service also included some history of the area and the beginnings of the cemetery.  Ray gave the eulogy and told about “The Merch’s” championship career — I believe he got a little choked up towards the end.  Another local minister gave the benediction and the service closed with Taps.  After the burial we shared in good food, good laughs and good memories.

There’s a video on this local station’s site. And here’s the ESPN article.

I should have pictures soon.

Just be glad it wasn’t a sermon illustration

by

Here’s a story where a Michigan pastor revealed too much of himself to a parishioner:

[Pastor] DePoy admitted showing a female church member nude pictures of himself and his wife, against the woman’s will, prosecutors said. He later resigned from the church.

Why doesn’t a group of teenagers fasting to raise awareness of world hunger or taking donations of over $10 million for the hungry ever make the news?

A Letter of Apology

by

The church I serve is out in the County, our closest town in state, that is where our kids go to school and where our post office is, is Cherokee.  Cherokee is not large enough to support a newspaper, even a weekly like our neighbors in Iuka, MS who have the Vidette.  (Sorry no link, they don’t have a website yet.)

Anyway, someone has recently started printing an occasional newsletter – Smoke Signals. The following letter was printed in the latest issue #27/8.

To the citizens of Cherokee,

It has been brought to my attention that I have offended many of you by the articles I have written.  I now take the time to apologize because I do not want to be the cause of any discord here.  I also take the time to apologize to all the Pastors of Cherokee for writing to them in an attempt to create unity.  This could be ssen as me trying to tell them how to run their churches.  this was not my intent.  I will no longer write any articles to be published in Cherokee and I also am announcing that Sermons in the park will be discontinued and I will not run for Mayor.  At this time I am putting the Brotherton house and the Park and camp grounds on the market for sale and my wife and I will move out of Cherokee as soon as it sells.   We have a price in mind but will consider all offers.  If you wish to see the house and Park and Campgrounds, please call [—-].  Again, I deeply apologize for any harm I have done to Cherokee or any of it’s people.

D… R…

I don’t know what was so offensive that the man has to stop preaching, drop out of his run for mayor, sell his home and business and move out of town.  I think I’ll call to see if they have back issues available.  I didn’t receive a unity letter – I wonder if I should be offended that I wasn’t included.

(NOTE: Just to avoid any confusion, D. R. was simply a contributor to the newsletter not the main writer/editor/publisher.)

It would have made a great song!

by

We gather, as many churches do for a devotional reading and song before we divide up into our Sunday school classes. It’s led by a layman so I was sitting in a pew and just before the the service started a wave sorta rose through the pews (back to front instead of side to side). Instead of cheering everyone rose saying “What was that?”

After the front pews jumped up we saw some sort of ‘critter’ bolt from the congregation into the choir loft. When it climbed up the wall we saw what it was — a squirrel!

I made an admittedly pathetic attempt to grab it. There is simply no training in seminary to prepare you for catching rodents that are circling the chancel, weaving in and out of organ pipes. The assembly was mostly made up of little ol’ ladies, so I was glad when, after a few minutes of chasing the squirrel, Danny came in. Danny is very big and very country, just the sort of man you want to show up when your trying to catch an animal.

Danny is apparently more intimidating to squirrels than I am. It might be his size and obvious comfort chasing animals, then again it might be because his momma is famous for her squirrel dumplings. Any way when Danny entered the chancel the squirrel decided to get out of there. It had climbed nearly to the ceiling, it spread its arms and flew over our heads. We had a flying squirrel.

After a nice chase through the narthex among very confused parishioners and very excited children the squirrel shot into my office. I stood outside my office listening to the thud – bump – SLAM going on inside. I tried to smile nicely to folks as I imagined going inside to find squished squirrel bits all over my books. After a minute or two, Danny emerged, beaming with pride and holding his jacket over his head. It was bundled around what had to an extremely panicked squirrel. The squirrel was set free unharmed and the morning service continued as normal. I did ask our organist to play Ray Stevens for the offertory.

(By the way Danny has since joined the Army and is serving his second round in Iraq.  You’re in our prayers.)

The cup that we bless …

by

Being one of the few full time ministers among the country churches in our presbytery has meant that I’ve often had the task of helping serve many of our smaller country churches when they are without a pastor.  This has meant getting lost on many rambling county roads, preaching to congregations of 2-4 people at times and moderating some pretty interesting session*  meetings.  It has also meant serving communion when congregations were without an ordained minister for extended periods of time.

On one such occasion I met with a little country church as soon as I could hurry in from my own service.  Their worship was already in progress, one of the elders had spoken and I came in to administer the sacrament.  The communion table was set, the people were reverent.  I was out of breath but managed to read the words of institution.  As I removed the covering from the bread I noticed the standard white pieces of unleavened bread so many churches use — nothing unusual.  I took the cover off of the tray of individual cups, the color of the juice looked a little light … but oh well.  As I said the prayer of consecration I was concerned about how old the juice must be but figured it wouldn’t hurt me.  Then I ate the cracker and drank … Grapico !

No one had thought to bring the Welches so one of the elders ran up to the nearest gas station (no store for 20 miles was going to be open on a Sunday) and got two cans of grape soda out of the Coke machine.

Now I make it a habit of carrying my own elements when I’m asked to serve communion.

(*the governing board of the local congregation)

Image: country road by John Beagle