Bluegrass homily

I take time out from the Anglican wars sometimes to follow the Roman, in St. Louis and elsewhere, now St. Paul courtesy of a favorite blog, Wild Reed.

A frustrating business, but as a veteran of the guerrilla church --- unarmed raids at the altar rails of unsuspecting congregations when the need for the Eucharist arises --- now back home among Episcopalians, I‘m better at taking comfort where I find it than I used to be

I’m also a fan of bluegrass (don’t worry if you’re not; it’s an acquired taste and it takes perseverance) --- great traveling music, though.

Sunday morning after the 8 a.m. Rite I Eucharist at St. John’s here (designed originally for Episcopalians whose ears prefer traditional language to the more contemporary Rite II, called Anglican fossils by some, and I don't care --- but I do relish the early-morning hour and the music of silence), I headed three hours south listening to The Del McCoury Band’s “The Promise Land,” and found another homily in Mary Beth Cordle’s “Sit Down With Jesus.”

Here are some of the lyrics (you’re on your own so far as close harmony, nasal twang, guitar, mandolin, banjo, fiddle and bass fiddle are concerned):

Jesus was a man who liked to sit down with his friends,
Break bread and share good conversation,
He made no distinction of status or of station,
Just extended an open invitation.

And the chorus:

The table’s spread,
Jesus wants to sit and eat with us.
Spend some time (Zaccheus was a changed man after lunch)

Come on in
To a feast prepared for all to share
You don’t need a reservation, just pull up a chair

Something to think about, I thought, in a day and age of renaissance for those who’d like to slam the barn door and bar it in the Anglican, Roman and other traditions before all the sheep come home safe from pasture.

You don't need a reservation, just pull up a chair ...

Can I hear it from the amen corner?