O' Solstice Tree, O' Solstice Tree

Some Christian churches have been offering special services for the winter solstice, and this parody based on "O' Tannenbaum" just popped into my mind and onto these pages.

Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
We celebrate the darkness.
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
We celebrate the darkness.
We come to thee on bended knee
to mistakenly worship thee
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
We celebrate the darkness.

Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
You mark the days and time for me.
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
You mark the days and time for me.
The shortest day has come our way,
We see by where your shadows lay.
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
You mark the days and time for me.

Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
We walk around your branches.
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
We walk around your branches.
A labyrinth stroll will pave the way
to see you on the shortest day.
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
We walk around your branches.

Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
paganly we worship thee,
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
paganly we worship thee.
With candles in hand we dance around
and make your roots our holy ground
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
paganly we worship thee.

Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
We celebrate the darkness.
Oh solstice tree, oh solstice tree
We celebrate the darkness.
Our druid priests' nocturnal walk
Will make the sleeping fundies balk
at us for bowing down to honor thee
our dear beloved solstice tree.

I'm Glad I'm Not Episcopalian Anymore

For my friend the Undergroundpewster,

The other night I was relaxing and watching that old musical, "Gigi" when Maurice Chevalier's rendition of "I'm Glad I'm Not Young Anymore" made me think about my younger days as an Episcopalian. Something about the lyrics called for a parody.


I'M GLAD I'M NOT YOUNG ANYMORE
From "Gigi" (1958)
(Lyrics : Alan Jay Lerner / Music : Frederick Loewe)

Here goes nuthin!


Poor boy! Poor boy!
Down-hearted and depressed and in a spin
Poor boy! Poor boy!
Oh, the Episcopal Church can really do a fellow in!

How lovely to sit here in the shade
With none of the woes of clergy or lay
I'm glad I'm not Episcopalian anymore

The rivalries that don't exist at all
The feelings you're about to fall
I'm glad that I'm not Episcopalian anymore

No more confusion
No Sunday sermon surprise
No self-delusion
When you're hearing those lies
That the Bible isn't wise

Praying the tithers come through the door
The denomination needs forevermore
Forevermore is shorter than before
Oh, I'm so glad that I'm not Episcopalian anymore

The tiny revisions that torture you
The fear that your Lord won't like them too
I'm glad I'm not Episcopalian anymore

The longing to end the stale affair
Until you find out TEC doesn't care
I'm glad that I'm not Episcopalian anymore

No more frustration
No church shopper am I
No aggravation
Just one reluctant reply
"TEC, goodbye!"

The Labyrinth has lost its paint
Cranmer is still my patron saint
I've never been so comfortable before
Oh, I'm so glad that I'm not Episcopalian anymore

A Wandering Pewster I

My poor friend the Undergroundpewster has been wandering about in different Anglican circles the past couple of months, and I do wish the pewster finds a safe harbor in which to anchor. Inspired by the problem of lost Anglicans, I offer up this take on Arthur Sullivan's "A Wandering Minstrel I" from the "Mikado."

A wandering pewster I —
A thing of lowly aspirations,
For hymns, anthems, and sermons,
Some loved and some endured.
My catalogue is complete,
Though my passion was raging,
With each doctrinal changing
I just shifted my tired seat!
I just shifted my tired seat!

Are you in sentimental mood?
I'll sigh with you,
Oh, sorrow, sorrow!
On priestess' coldness do you brood?
I'll do so, too —
Oh, sorrow, sorrow!
I'll charm your willing ears
With blogs of Anglican fears,
While sympathetic tears
My cheeks bedew —
Oh, sorrow, sorrow!

But if evangelistic sentiment is wanted,
I've  hymns and prayer books true and tried;
For where'er our pewsitters' rear may be planted,
The false teachers are defied!
Then new pewsters, in serried ranks assembled,
Will ever share the Gospel News
And I shouldn't be surprised if 815 trembled
Watching the mighty troops leaving the pews.

(Chorus:)
We shouldn't be surprised if 815 trembled
Trembled with alarm
Watching the mighty troops leaving the pews.

(Pewster)
And if you call for the Holy See,
We'll heave the thurible round,
With a yeo heave ho, for the incense is free,
Her chain's a-trip and her censer's a-fire,
Hurrah for the Tiber bound!

(Chorus:)
Yeo-ho — heave ho —
Hurrah for the Tiber bound!

(Pewster)
To sit quietly as the revisionist priest
Tickles the congo's taste,
But the happiest hour a pewster sees
Is when he's found
Amongst a faithful crowd,
With his Bible in his hands, yeo ho!
And his knees firmly on the ground!

(Chorus:)
Then man the pews — off we go,
As the thurifer swings us round,
With a yeo heave ho,
And a boat boy below,
Hurrah for the Tiber bound!
With a yeo heave ho,
And a boat boy below,
Hurrah for the Tiber bound!

Yeo-ho, heave ho,
Yeo-ho, heave ho,
Heave ho, heave ho, yeo-ho!

(Pewster)
A wandering pewster I —
A thing of lowly aspirations,
For hymns, anthems, and sermons,
Some loved and some endured.

(Chorus:)
Some loved and some endured
A teary eyed goodbye,
Goodbye! Goodby!