Well, it’s Friday morning. So, as I do on most Friday mornings, I’m researching and working on the first draft of this coming Sunday’s sermon.
Sunday is our annual Stewardship campaign Sunday and I’m charged with sharing some reflections that might lead the hearer to reflect on why they might wish to make a gift (substantial preferred) in support of the congregation’s mission. It really is a very important if not fully appreciated task in the life of the congregation. I’ve lifted my sermon title from a little pamphlet the Stewardship Committee has put together called “A Grumpy Guide to Giving.”
Anyway as a result of this I’ve been mining the web for jokes and anecdotes that might be useful. Some are not, but seem worth passing on.
For example, while not useful for the sermon I found a reference to San Francisco Chronicle columnist Jon Carrol’s delightful column on the Unitarian Jihad. Speaks to Unitarian Universalism at several levels, and if you’ve never read it, you might find it fun as well as edifying.
I also found a couple of jokes that I don’t think I can use in the sermon, but as I said, seem worth passing on.
Once there were two men stranded on a desert island. The first man started screaming, “We’re going to die! We’re going to die! There’s no food! There’s no water! We’re going to die!” The second man sat down with his back propped up against the coconut tree that is required in such stories and said, “I make a hundred grand a week. Don’t worry, we’ll get found.” “What are you talking about,” screamed the first man. “We’re in the middle of nowhere! There’s no food, there’s no water. We’re going to die!” The second man, stretched and looked at the lovely expanse of water and said, “No, I’m a member of the First Unitarian Society in Newton, I make a fortune, and I’m the only member of the entire congregation that tithes. Believe me, our minister James will find me, and quickly.”
And one more that didn’t make the cut into the sermon.
I’m standing in the front of the church after Sunday services when a small girl pulls on my sleeve. I look down at her and she says, “Reverend James (her parents are sticklers that their children use polite forms of address) when I grow up I’m going to give you money.” I was pleased and replied, “Well, that’s sweet. But why?” “Because,” she answered, “My daddy says you’re the poorest preacher he’s ever heard.”
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