Margies3
03-23-2007, 08:54 PM
Adapted from a piece Garrison Keillor wrote on Methodists.....
(Adapted from an essay by Garrison Keillor)
We make fun of Pentecostals for their enthusiasm, their excessive exuberance, their lack of fear of giving offense, their length of worship services and also for their secret fondness for macaroni and cheese. But nobody sings like them.
If you were to ask an audience in New York City , a relatively
Pentecostalless place, to sing along on the chorus of "Michael Row the
Boat Ashore," they will look daggers at you as if you had asked them to
strip to their underwear. But if you do this among Pentecostals, they'd
smile and row that boat ashore and up on the beach! And down the road!
Many Pentecostals are bred from childhood to sing in four-part harmony,
a talent that comes from sitting on the lap of someone singing alto or
tenor or bass and hearing the harmonic intervals by putting your little
head against that person's rib cage. It's natural for Pentecostals to
sing in harmony. We are too modest to be soloists, too worldly to sing
in unison. When you're singing in the key of C and you slide into the
A7th and D7th chords, all two hundred of you, it's an emotionally
fulfilling moment. By our joining in harmony, we somehow promise that
we will not forsake each other.
I do believe this: People, these Pentecostals, who love to sing in
four-part harmony are the sort of people you could call up when you're
in deep distress. If you are dying, they will comfort you. If you are
lonely,they'll talk to you. And if you are hungry, they'll give you
tuna salad!
Pentecostals believe in prayer, but would practically die if asked to pray
out loud without everyone else praying out loud along with them.
Pentecostals like to sing, except when confronted with a new hymn or a
hymn with more than four stanzas.
Pentecostals believe their pastors will visit them in the hospital,even
if they don't notify them that they are there.
Pentecostals believe in miracles and even expect miracles, especially
when passing the plate.
Pentecostals drink coffee as if it were the Third Sacrament.
Pentecostals feel guilty for not staying to clean up after their
own wedding reception in the Fellowship Hall.
Pentecostals are willing to pay up to one dollar for a meal at church.
Pentecostals still serve Jell-O in the color of the
season and think that peas in a tuna noodle casserole adds too much
color, thereby making it "worldly".
Pentecostals believe that it is OK to poke fun at themselves and
never take themselves too seriously.
And finally, you know you are a Pentecostal when: It's 100 degrees,
with 90% humidity, and you still have coffee after the service. You
hear something really funny during the sermon and AMEN as loudly as
you can. Donuts are a line item in the church budget, just like coffee.
When you watch a Star Wars movie and they say, "May the Force be with
you,"and you respond, "and also with you."
And lastly, it takes ten minutes to say good-bye! And then you adjourn from the church to the local restaurant for fellowship.
(Adapted from an essay by Garrison Keillor)
We make fun of Pentecostals for their enthusiasm, their excessive exuberance, their lack of fear of giving offense, their length of worship services and also for their secret fondness for macaroni and cheese. But nobody sings like them.
If you were to ask an audience in New York City , a relatively
Pentecostalless place, to sing along on the chorus of "Michael Row the
Boat Ashore," they will look daggers at you as if you had asked them to
strip to their underwear. But if you do this among Pentecostals, they'd
smile and row that boat ashore and up on the beach! And down the road!
Many Pentecostals are bred from childhood to sing in four-part harmony,
a talent that comes from sitting on the lap of someone singing alto or
tenor or bass and hearing the harmonic intervals by putting your little
head against that person's rib cage. It's natural for Pentecostals to
sing in harmony. We are too modest to be soloists, too worldly to sing
in unison. When you're singing in the key of C and you slide into the
A7th and D7th chords, all two hundred of you, it's an emotionally
fulfilling moment. By our joining in harmony, we somehow promise that
we will not forsake each other.
I do believe this: People, these Pentecostals, who love to sing in
four-part harmony are the sort of people you could call up when you're
in deep distress. If you are dying, they will comfort you. If you are
lonely,they'll talk to you. And if you are hungry, they'll give you
tuna salad!
Pentecostals believe in prayer, but would practically die if asked to pray
out loud without everyone else praying out loud along with them.
Pentecostals like to sing, except when confronted with a new hymn or a
hymn with more than four stanzas.
Pentecostals believe their pastors will visit them in the hospital,even
if they don't notify them that they are there.
Pentecostals believe in miracles and even expect miracles, especially
when passing the plate.
Pentecostals drink coffee as if it were the Third Sacrament.
Pentecostals feel guilty for not staying to clean up after their
own wedding reception in the Fellowship Hall.
Pentecostals are willing to pay up to one dollar for a meal at church.
Pentecostals still serve Jell-O in the color of the
season and think that peas in a tuna noodle casserole adds too much
color, thereby making it "worldly".
Pentecostals believe that it is OK to poke fun at themselves and
never take themselves too seriously.
And finally, you know you are a Pentecostal when: It's 100 degrees,
with 90% humidity, and you still have coffee after the service. You
hear something really funny during the sermon and AMEN as loudly as
you can. Donuts are a line item in the church budget, just like coffee.
When you watch a Star Wars movie and they say, "May the Force be with
you,"and you respond, "and also with you."
And lastly, it takes ten minutes to say good-bye! And then you adjourn from the church to the local restaurant for fellowship.