One of the good things about growing up in a Methodist environment was the music. Stirring hymns, many composed by John and Charles Wesley, magnificent pipe organs, and congregationally sung with great verve and scant regard for pitch and musicality were the only redeeming moments during my childhood sunday church incarcerations.
In Sunday School little gof regularly massacred the melodic
"Jesus wants me for a sunbeam" with the other young inmates.
Performances accompanied by visions of me levitating across the earth's surface beaming joy and happiness to all mankind with a rainbow-esque spectrum of light emanating from some unspecified bodily orifice. (Hey, I was just a kid…gimme a break.)
These days I understand that Jesus would not have been that stupid to select me for such an honorary vocation.
Not one single human being who has ever had dealings with GOF in the past 60 years would have said "what a pleasant illuminating fellow that GOF is……I think he should be a little lighthouse to help guide the way for humanity."
I emerged from the womb grumpy, and the condition progressively worsened.
My parents somehow tolerated me for 14 years, after which they both left town, leaving me in the dubious boarding care of an elderly and grouchy parishoner, who fed and nurtured the garden of cynicism and sarcasm (and lets not forget reality) growing within me.
No, I am sorry to say that Jesus most definitely did not want me for a sunbeam.
He had greater works in mind for me.
He gave me my own special hymn, sung to the same tune.
So please join me with this melodic lilting waltz.
Please sing it well. We don't want any tunelessness reverberating around inside The Bucket.
Jesus wants me to ex-ter-min-ate,
Rabid evang-E-lism, and
Sectar-ee-an Arro-Gance, (gotta get meter and emPHARsis right)
Remove them all from me.
Chorus; (sung with
gay wild abandon)
ItsThe Bucket's wish for humanity.
Ree-ligious bigotry. YEAH!
Everybody, one more time………………….or perhaps not.