Somebody needs to double check who they’re spamming. I got a spam offer today titled: Increase the Welcome of your Church! Train Your Ushers.
Apparently it’s an ad for something called the “Usher Training System 101.” The ad copy is pretty funny:
A well-trained usher is your churchs GREATEST ASSET!
ҷ They promote church growth by making visitors feel welcome.
They protect the anointing by minimizing distractions.
They provide good role models during the offering.
They help members find seats quickly.
Rev. Buddy Bellגs Usher Training System is the most complete course for ushers available.
Damn, and here I thought it was an effective ministry that would bring people in. All along all I needed to do was train my ushers better. I’m very amused by this bit of email.
Speaking of churches, I was actually in one today. Managed to keep from bursting into flames the moment I walked across the threshold and everything. It was for my sister-in-law’s wedding. The Reverend was a nice lady, but had the presentation style of Mr. Rogers on Valium. I did a good job at playing it cool, though. I even managed to avoid giggling when she lectured about love and God that made it sound like God was really Barney the Dinosaur in disguise. Apparently God hugs a lot. He hugged the world and he hugged Adam and Eve just like he hugs each and everyone of us.
Or something along those lines. I can’t remember it too well. I was too busy trying not to bust a gut. It wasn’t a bad service or anything, it just had some amusing moments. Like when the bride and groom couldn’t get the rings untied from the ring bearer’s pillow. And when they did, they dropped one. Oops.
But otherwise it went off without a hitch and a good time was had by all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go whip my ushers into shape for tomorrow’s service.



















I feel the same way sometimes at religious ceremonies (I often wonder what the hell my family’s going to do when I get married without a religous ceremony). Here’s one of my favorite exerpts from George Carlin’s book Napalm & Silly Putty: