Sunday Church-Blogging: Episcopal Sermons

… are traditionally an object of derision. Unlike the Anglican clergy of P.G. Wodehouse’s day, who could at least be relied upon to wind a stem, American Episcopal clergy are, according to stereotype, uncomfortable with preaching (though the exceptions are impressive and shouldn’t be forgotten), rushing through that part of the service with a few mumbled thoughts on Service or Taking the Larger View and then gratefully stepping aside for announcement time.

Life in the South, where going to church is still a more or less required token of Quality and Niceness, has furnished me with many examples. I’ve gone to church for much of my life, sampling several different denominations, and tasting many rich local variations on that flavor of boredom best induced by moral-spiritual blather, but I didn’t know a quarter-hour could be spent so emptily till I visited a few of the fancy, bells-and-smells Episcopal churches down South Carolina way. One Suburbanite of God told a bunch of jokes that clearly came from one of those public-speakers’ joke books, and, just as clearly, from a pre-1980 edition. The fellow who used to preach at the downtown cathedral’s evening service gave incoherent lectures on world development, the Super Bowl, and the importance of experience in a presidential candidate (he wanted us to know that he supported John McCain). These were not side notes; they were the entire content of the sermon. This morning, for Palm Sunday, I was treated to something that, roughly outlined, went like this:

1. I was getting my glasses fixed recently, and, boy, it’s just crazy what they can do these days with machines and such.
2. And that reminds me: In Today’s Modern World, All This Technology, It Sure Is Crazy. (Otherwise known as “the observation that opens every freshman paper I’ve ever read.”) It’s Scary How Fast the Pace of Life Is Nowadays. What With Cell Phones and Such. Sometimes We Forget To Pause and Just Live Life. You Kids Get Off My Lawn.
3. Now, when Jesus was riding that donkey into Jerusalem, what we forget today is (follow me closely here): that donkey was really slow. Whereas Today’s Modern World, as we’ve just seen, is (can you make the connection?) … fast.
4. But He, our Savior, He rode that donkey anyway. Yes, he did.
5. Therefore (big payoff): try to slow down this week, take time to thank flowers and smell the God, I mean thank God and smell the flowers. Remember, we have lots of Holy Week services for you to go to, which will certainly help you to take a moment and really, y’know, think, insofar as the mere sound of my voice makes time stand still forevermore.

Postscript: Could it be that the secret model for the last few generations of non-sequitur ECUSA pulpitcraft is … the Vice President of the United States?! That’s the American people, man, we’ve gotta give them light.