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When Santa Defeated The Sermon

By Greg L | 14 December 2014 | Humor & Satire | 2 Comments

Little Johnny is trying his best to mind mom while the pastor is getting to the meat of Sunday’s sermon, not wriggling around, making faces at the people seated in the pews behind him, and trying mightily hard to not make that airplane sound that seems to escape his lips every time he gets bored.  Pastor started out with a funny story, launched into some bible references, and is now about to tell us once again that through faith, Christ crucified gives us an eternal home in heaven that we don’t deserve, but have been given through His grace.  Just a few minutes more, and Johnny might be able to collect on having another chocolate chip cookie in the fellowship hall, and darned if those just make outstanding bribes for good behavior.

But here comes Santa Claus to wreck it all.

The distant sirens hinted that something big was happening.  They started around Isaiah 61 and started to really swell around the time pastor jumped back to Genesis 3, a constant, nagging warning that the entire neighborhood might be burning to the ground since they seemed to come from everywhere.  Then Johnny could hear the horns, suggesting all these unseen emergency vehicles were determined to get past unfathomable traffic jams that couldn’t ever happen on the Third Sunday morning in Advent.  Still, there wasn’t any hint of smoke, the view of the street outside was as usual calm, so by ignoring that noise, Johnny still had a shot at that cookie.  It was just noise, after all.  Pastor will be done soon.  Just a little longer.

A fire truck slowly rolls down the street, now visible through the windows from the pews, with lights ablaze.  It’s incessant horn compels Johnny’s attention.  On top of the truck… holy smokes!  It’s Santa Claus himself, throwing fistfuls of candy every which way.  Nothing could ever possibly compete with the idea of the big guy himself, the one who showers Johnny with amazing toys and games every year, standing on top of the bestest truck in the whole world with the siren going, the hypnotic red and white lights crazily dancing, the siren blaring and horn honking.  And Santa is throwing yummy treats everywhere like it’s a grand parade, just waiting for Johnny to leap out of that pew, bolt out of the church and dash to the lawn of the church and scoop up all the yummies before anyone else thinks of doing the same.

Johnny starts pumping his legs in uncontrollable excitement, making him move like a piston in a race car screaming to accelerate into second gear.  Little Todd, three rows back starts chanting “fire truck, fire truck, I wanna ride in a fire truck!” before mom can throw herself on him and cover his mouth as his eyes nearly pop out of his head.  Behind him, Sally is desperate to make sure to fully inform the rest of her family what’s happening in their plain view at a volume level that never seems possible when she’s singing in the Kidz Choir.  Within less than a second chaos ripples through the Sanctuary as the attention of every child in the congregation is ripped towards the amphetamine that only Santa Claus can be, and the amused attention of every adult is drawn to the spectacle of such instantaneous, unavoidable and thoroughly unexpected pre-adolescent joy.  It’s like dropping a happy bomb in the middle of the church, one that only hits children.

Baby Jesus never brought me a doll that you feed with a bottle and really drinks.  Momma, does this mean I get my presents now?  He’s right there, momma!  LOOK!

Pastor can’t see the street through the windows from the pulpit.  All he knows is that during the entire sermon sirens and horns have been drawing everyone’s eyes to the windows every twenty seconds or so. Now the attention of every last young child has now been crazy-glued to something going on outside, their parents are in full damage control mode, and the rest are more bemused by the barely contained pandemonium that just exploded in the pews than they are aware of what was just read from Matthew 11:2-11.  All Pastor can do as he tries to regain the attention is to listen to the congregation for a clue about what could possibly be responsible for causing such chaos during one of the sermons.

“Stonewall Jackson Volunteer Fire Department,” he hears muttered.

The Anti-Christ must getting chased down the street by the local fire department.  What else could it possibly be?  Let’s hope they do a good job of driving him out, because these attacks on delivering the Gospel better not happen again. 



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2 Comments

  1. Jack Slimp said on 15 Dec 2014 at 10:09 am:
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    Dominus vobiscum et com spiritu tuo. :)

  2. Swisgaar Swigelf said on 16 Dec 2014 at 3:39 pm:
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    I agree. It’s really sad that in this day and age people keep pushing fictional characters on little kids, like this man that nobody has ever seen and for which there’s zero physical evidence, who is supposed to give you good things if you follow his rules, and punish you if you don’t. And while we’re on the subject, Santa is pretty dumb too.

    (But at least his rules make sense and don’t include a bunch of arbitrary nonsense about whom you can poke and what animals you oughtn’t eat.)

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