Best Church Service Poems
My Mother-In-Law has passed
so she is no longer here.
Mixed feelings I have
but a little less fear.
She was not my big fan,
was less tolerant than most.
She called me a bum... I thought
'What a strange wedding day toast?'
I was told more than once
my Wife could do better.
She wrote Ann Landers nine times
about me in some letters.
She would scream like a banshee
with a voice unlike silk.
I was always hoping to see her
displayed on a carton of milk.
She was always at our house
so I had no where to flee.
A cold wind would soon follow
killing the leaves on our trees.
Real Estate values have fallen
all over our block.
She kept wearing those short shorts
when out for a walk.
There was a knock on my door
and who did I find?
But a 'Peeping Tom' crying,
'Please close all your blinds.'
A sizable women as she smoked...
had a cough.
When the Lady broke wind...
my car alarm would go off.
We had gone to the beach
and swam late through the night.
She then got a bit hungry
and bit a Great White.
The next day we went to the Zoo
where she was attacked by three apes.
The battle was wild and fierce...
only one would escape.
I arrive early for the service,
it's the least I can do.
Considering our checkered history
and what we've been through.
The people are surprisingly quiet,
they are silent in prayer.
But my thoughts turn quickly to lunch,
what will they prepare?
I will definitely miss her somewhat
as I ponder her fate.
For poor Heaven has gained
a little more weight.
But if Heaven be not
but the other direction.
I have no doubt she will have
the Devil's affection.
We shouldn't speak ill of the dead
as there is no need to flaunt.
They may come back as spirits
determined to haunt.
The Church service is finished
as the mourners depart.
The only thing left
is to put a stake in her heart.
The End
*For those who might be interested. I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day.
Good earth styles
Fine ample grass;
A fine raiment
Sun and rain speak
Splurge fond refrain;
Rainbows echo
Dawn flings
Shadows drowned;
Awake to birdsong
Man-made park
Forest architecture;
In the city
Journey here
Begin within;
Greet the sea shore
Waves splashing
Jetty promenade;
Fishing trip moments
Offshore boat ride
Temple pilgrimage;
Kusu Island awaits
By temple hall
Ancestral tablets;
Silence mitigates
Sunday church service
Congregation sings;
Amen to that
Buddhist mantra
Chanting meditation;
Mindfully aware
God's children come
Kingdom awaits;
Barter for bread
Hindu yogi
Beyond samsara;
Lotus posture
Muslim Renaissance
Faith revival;
Touch of grace
Sufi thinker
Austere profoundness;
Lessons to learn
Taoist philosophy
Yin-Yang address;
Harmony presides
Christian theology
Heaven and Hell;
Symbols and signs
Jewish piety
Despite persecution;
People of God
God wears
Many hats;
Each a religion
Wise men tell
From all faiths:
God is Love
Men of Science
Men of God;
Bridge the gap
Go beyond faith
Rest in stillness;
Walk the middle way
God's children
Need love and light;
Stern compassion works
A wise man said:
Live and let live;
Do not shed blood
Keep your faith,
Love all colours;
See human rainbows
Leon Enriquez
05 August 2014
Singapore
It’s an old-fashioned
Bell - a silver-tingling, it’s a-ringing
The choir’s singing
Their wrists a-swinging, up and down
It’s an old-fashioned
Carriage ride, abiding on the crunchy snow
Fresh and new
Flakes still falling, silently blowing
It’s an old-fashioned
Popcorn string, winding ‘round the pine
Some popped
Into cherub mouths, those kids grinning
It’s an old-fashioned
Reading of the ghosts of past, present, future
Chills from the draft
As the smoke pours into the hereafter
It’s an old-fashioned
Christmas Eve - carolling comes calling
To each decked out door
Gifts scattered under tree at midnight
It’s an old-fashioned
Church service - all eyes on Jesus
The babe’s in the manger
Kids - Bethlehem clothed
Bell - a silver-tingling, it’s a-ringing
Carriage ride, abiding on the crunchy snow
Popcorn string, winding ‘round the pine
Reading of the ghosts of past, present, future
Christmas Eve - carolling comes calling
Church service - all eyes on Jesus
Bring back the old-fashioned joy
Maud, the meek poverty stricken seventy year old matriarch
of the people spoke proudly as the relief shown on her face.
“Two weeks ago I had tests run at Sparks Medical Center in
Fort Smith they told me that my old body was almost totally
eat up of cancer. I ask a brother at that time here in the church
whom I respect and have faith in to pray. He simply said as he
laid hands on me, them that believe shall lay hands on the sick,
and they shall recover. (Mark 16:18 KJV) Why that is all he said
as he asks me to agree with him.”
“I stand before you today, one day before Christmas, totally free
of cancer. I was scheduled yesterday to begin receiving radiation,
but when they did my blood tests again they could not find one
trace of cancer. My doctor said he just could not explain the miracle
that had apparently taken place. You apparently know a doctor who
is far greater than I am.” Tears of gratitude flowed down Maud’s old,
weathered cheeks as the whole church stood and rejoiced with their
precious matriarch mother. This was a Christmas eve of rejoicing like
non other, and there was not a dry eye in the whole church.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A true story from 1987 in Moreland Arkansas Free Full Gospel Church.
This charitable hearted lady lived several years after this and died of simple
old age at around 90 years of age.
For Carolyn’s
Contest: Your Christmas Miracle
What Do People Go to Church For?
In our church’s efforts to be contemporary...
Many things are brought into the sanctuary.
Many seem eager to “bring in the crowd.”
It’s almost like just about anything’s allowed.
Many of the old hymns are often “cast out...”
To get closer to the world is what church is often about.
A call for holiness or repentance? You got to be kidding!
This often doesn’t quite fit into people’s way of living!
Let’s simply come and sing, and “fill in the lines.”
Let’s all come in God’s love! This sounds fine!
There’s no need for prayer! Let’s plan activities!
Why all can come, and join in the festivities!
Have you read that God’s judgment shall appear!
It’ll begin with the church! And it draws very near!
Jesus said, “my house is of prayer.” “But It’s a den of thieves!
This part of scripture, it seems like no one believes!
It’s time to get back to a church filled with God’s holy power!
We need him more than ever! We need him this hour!
God’s not interested in how many people fill the building!
He’s interested in our hearts, and the kind of life we’re living!
The pollution allowed inside the church has to GO!
We need to seek the blood of Jesus to make us whole!
The Holy Ghost’ fire is what’s needed to consume that within!
We must allow the holiness of God to cleanse us from sin!
This may seem old fashioned to you. But God doesn’t care!
You may try to run and hide. But he’ll find you there!
If it’s a church service you want, they come in all varieties.
But God calls us to a holy life, that’s separate from society!
Fellowship with God is the most important thing to do…
It’s time to humbly seek him… And not just sit in the pew!
By Jim Pemberton
Made a batch of cornbread Saturday morning.
Mixed the cornbread with clams and nuts to make stuffing.
Surrounded and filled the turkey with onions and stuffing;
Having done my part there, my wife did the cooking.
I chopped up the turkey gizzard and liver,
And fried them with chopped onions in oil and butter.
I added flour and chicken broth to make some gravy,
And put in some buttermilk to make it thick and savory.
Sunday morning I learned four hymns on keyboards for the church service.
Later played those hymns on the organ for the Sunday service.
After church, retreated to my quiet music space,
Fired up my laptop and plugged in my two-input interface.
I re-recorded my rhythm guitar track once again,
And sang "Lady Luck Stomped Out (When True Love Walked In)".
I must have sung it a dozen times to get the best rendition,
Because I've got only a few days left to enter a songwriters' competition.
THE PASSION OF CHRIST
A Confrontational Poem by Atsu Adaletey
The Passion
Of Christ
Is a Mission
With Thirst
The Passion
Of Christ
Is a Vision
With a firm Decision
The passion of Christ
Is faith in Action
Not a Risk
For Experimentation
Is not to take pride in church mansion with air condition
It is to step out, reach out to those poor souls in a hopeless condition
It is not to take pride in your smartphones during church service
It is to fear the Lord for his greatness and to revere Him with some level of discipline
It is not for church sitters
But for church workers
It is not for crowd-driven souls
But for kingdom-driven souls
The passion for Christ
Now replaced with the passion for lust
That which ignores the essence of the Trinity
The passion for Christ is not for high hills who are reluctant to jump in His praise
The passion for Christ is for flat feet that humble their reputation and position for His praise
The passion for Christ is not for make-ups that fake His praise
The passion for Christ is not for make-ups that denies
the soul from true worship
It is for souls who truly understand what it means to worship Him in truth and in spirit
It is for those whose skin deserves some whip
It is for those whose palms receives some nailing, embracing the pain of sacrifice in worship
The passion for Christ is for “wanna dos”
Not for “wanna sees”
Show me your phone and let Jehovah show me how much time He spends watching over you
Show me your expenses and let the creator who gives you life showcase your offerings and tithes
Tell me how old you are
And let Him tell you how many “minutes” you are left with
Tell me how busy you are
And let Him tell you how free He is
The Passion
Of Christ
Is a Mission
With Thirst
The Passion
Of Christ
Is a Vision
With a firm Decision
The passion of Christ
Is faith in Action
Not a Risk
For Experimentation
It is not for church sitters
But for church workers
It is not for crowd-driven souls
But for kingdom-driven souls
Where is your passion?
In Christianity
or Vanity
?
Jesus:
I stand at the door of the New Year, longing to come in
to inner sanctum of your heart that I may live within
Me:
Do not stand outside and knock, the door is open wide
I beg you not to hesitate, come make your home inside
Jesus:
Beloved, how can that be when sin stands in the way
Allow me to clear it all so we can commune and pray
Me:
Please, clean up my heart of all that displeases you
I want to surrender myself to taste your love so true
Jesus:
Then claim ME Master of your life, and I'll complete this task
Listen closely to my voice, and do just what I ask
Your eyes open now to see time slipping through your hand
Soon I will come again to take you to Promised Land
Is the longing of your heart safety under my wings?
Then give yourself now to me, not matter what life brings
Don't you know I need you so to be forever mine
When nothing you hold back, I will gift you life sublime
I love you more than my own life, died your love to win
You break my heart when you hold back, clinging to your sin
Me:
I wander far away from you, though to my heart you're dear
At this time when New Year starts, I feel your presence near
So it is, I make this vow, to make you my desire
Ignite with your Spirit, Lord, so I can blaze with fire
I proclaim, in holy Name, to make a brand new start
of a life in which You are sole Sovereign of my heart....
Eileen Manassian
I wrote this as a responsive prayer for a church service we had in Nicosia during which we brought in the New Year as a community of believers. I've embellished it and changed the response from All to Me. There is so much that God wants to bless us with through Christ...we just have our hearts full of so many things that we can't receive it all. I know there is much for me to ponder on tonight....Wishing you every blessing...
I am a master of the Arts University of Only One.
If you having problems my words can solve them.
My voice can direct others, better yet they call me a prima donna.
My words turn into a masterpiece, watch my ability as my words flow out of me.
As my ink in my pen turns into a instrument,
Switching my pen into a matchstick.
I have a substance inside of me,
A massacre of rivalry.
As my words hit my notebook, they appear to catch fire like a folded matchbook.
Leaving my page in a blaze, words flickering like a flame.
Chain reactions resulting in the following process.
Giving birth to a new verse,
My words multiply as my voice amplified.
Thinking like a matinee lyricist morning and afternoon performances.
Expressing with great enthusiasm with divided emotions,
Something like a church service.
My words preach mathematical matrimony.
As my words appear on paper like an unsolved fraction,
The lines divide my emotions at times.
Instead of numbers and symbols I use punctuation as a division.
Equals my equations a difference of an opinion,
Diversity of my personality.
Math is what these words are to me.
Words that can add value to your life,
Or you can subtract my advice.
Either way it goes I am going to leave a decimal at the end of this poem.
My words speak volumes
Artistic and creative
Talented in writing
Historical harmony writing a masterpiece.
Worship in God's house.
Pray and listen to sermon.
Sing and praise our God.
Sprawled on my soft leather sofa
One Sunday after church service
Reading Okara’s “Spirit of the Wind”
And my infant son is sleeping nearby:
He would never leave me alone.
I couldn’t tell whether I was reading
Because he was asleep or
He was asleep because I was reading.
But from the wind came the laughter of my
Neighbour’s kids
From over at the garden
Where they gather to play
And the wind keeps blowing.
Oh how they laugh such laughable laughter.
Freely they laugh hysterically, sillily
As if their lives depended on it.
Their high pitched chattering
Their piercing shouts
Twittering trough to my juvenile repertoires
Exhuming them from the cemetery of memory
To haunt my childhood chronicles.
This was me again
Laughing crazily in the garden
And on my sofa
He is up from his siesta, my son
He sees my laughing quietly,
He joins me.
Upon the freshly fallen snow
Outside a church a horse and buggy
Waits for the owner to arrive
They are going for a ride
To a farm that has a sleigh ride
In the farmer's field close by
Enjoying the sleigh ride
Hot chocolate is served
After the sleigh ride
The children will have coca
With a tasty snack to enjoy
WAKE UP CALL
Our Navy boom box -
“Reveille Reveille ladies! It’s time to wake up!”
Never laid under covers,
took too long to make the bed.
Talk about a time table!
Never learned to eat so fast -
20 minutes,
no matter if you were first, or last
in line.
Exhilaration in passing written test.
Well think again!
For the roar of tears,
broke my heart,
but I went on
as they went their way,
set back,
hoping for another chance.
80 women in one room,
with different personalities!
I shared a bunk bed,
with a mean one.
One recruit
returned back to barracks -
looped.
Another recruit - snapping
naughty pictures
to send back home.
And we even had a devil worshipper -
Too bad!
I hope she found her sound mind!
Christmas Eve church service
crooned
the Christian Navy hymn:
Eternal Father, strong to save*
Oh hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea! Amen!
Those of us who attended mass -
singing Christmas Carols,
were high
with gladness and laughter.
My bunkmate
merely said
“Shut up”
I wish her well.
Hit the pillow -
next day of reveille
Christmas Day!
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Lyrics by Reverend William Whiting and music by Reverend John B. Dyke
It was a cold night, and I hated it,
The church service all in rows,
I contemplated my throat to slit,
But decided not, for my throws.
Dick Saunders was from Sussex,
The British Billy Graham no less,
And if I ever thought of pop or sex,
I’d be scolded and given a caress.
He was holding ten Jesus meetings,
In the Meadows of Edinburgh, a park,
Every night for then and strong feelings,
Were inspired among the church stark.
It was for the people of Edinburgh,
To be told about Jesus and his way,
Called The Way To Life Crusade, ah,
It was so archaic, had Noah’s sway.
I’m disabled so spasm and suffered,
Every Sunday from CP fits, seizures,
From being all tensed up, buffered,
By difficult breathing for hours.
So I knew I couldn’t go to these,
Fundamentalist meetings for so long:
Sequential, asphyxiating with cheese,
Not my choice at all for life song.
But mum and dad insisted I went,
‘Cos he was the leader of the choir,
And mum challenged me each night,
For my decision making time, hour.
So one night I gave in and did submit,
Went along with the whole thing as true,
But I always knew that my spasms, fit,
Caused the acceptance rank and blue.
I had asked my parents courageously, bold,
For a carer for me to stay home from church,
Because I knew that medically I did hold,
But they cleanly just left me in the lurch.
The Cry Of A Child
The cry of a child, sometimes we can hear. The cry of a child
sometimes can be seen. We should all be on the lookout to
see when a child cries.
Abuse can come in different forms.It is not always sexaul
abuse. It can be physical, mental,or verbal, but it is still abuse.
A church one day, invited group of kids for a retreat. The kids
would have a week of fun. They would go camping, swimming,
play games and attend church services.
Since the first day - the paster notice a little girl, that did not
talk to anyone and kept to herself. The pastor decided to focuses
on her. The pastor noticed that she was dirty, had old tennis shoes
and her uncombed hair was all over her face.
The pastor took her to the side and asked her, why she didn't talked
to anyone. She answered - because, I am mean dumb and ugly. The
pastor told her - no, you are not. God did not make you dumb, mean
or ugly. Who told you that? The little girl answered - my mother
always tells me that.
The pastor told her to join the rest of the kids. Then he asked some
ladies of the church, to buy her a couple of dresses, some shoes and
other things that she might need. Then to clean and dress her up.
The next day they took her to the church service.
Everyone was amazed at how pretty she looked. As the days went
by, she learned to get along with the kids and could even smile now.
When the week was over - she was a different little girl. She had
confidence in herself. She went and thank the pastor for making her
life different...
03/12/2013
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
Note: This is all true. It happened
to my brother at his church. We should
be careful - what we tell our kids, we
could ruin their lives before they start.