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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

Now that Thanksgiving is over, I can sigh a deep, well-deserved sigh of relief. Being thankful for everything is very hard work. During the Thanksgiving season, I pasted a gratuitous smile on my face claiming to be thankful for everything, but deep down inside somewhere there is a streak of rebellion that struggles with this concept of being thankful.

I must admit that I am working on it because the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage keeps telling me, “You had better be working on that attitude of yours.”

And so, I work on my attitude, but I must confess it is rather hard. I admire people, such as my wife, who claim to be thankful for everything that happens in life. I would never want to question her sincerity (at least not in some venue that she could hear me), but I do harbor some doubts about this whole matter of being thankful for everything.
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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

The day following Thanksgiving is similar to the day after a national election. The question on everyone’s mind is, now what do we do with this turkey?

The big difference between these two days is simply the distinction between roasting and roosting, although, at times I am tempted to roast the roosting turkey. One turkey goes into the refrigerator while the other goes into a deep freeze. Our founding fathers, or whoever made the decision, did us all a favor by establishing Washington, D.C. as the roosting place for national politicians. After all, who wants to live next door to one?

I really do not mind all those politicians living in Washington. In fact, I much prefer it. I only wish there could be a law enacted to keep them there and maybe allow them out once a year for a good, old fashion “turkey shoot.” This could replace football as the national sport.

The difference between the two turkeys is one gobbles while the other one garbles.
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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

For about a week, I have had this nagging feeling that I was supposed to be doing something but I could not put my finger on it. It was the kind of feeling I have when I know the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage wants me to do something and I cannot remember what she told me to do. All I remember is her saying, “If you don’t do it you’ll be sorry.”

Well, I’m sorry, and I still cannot remember it.

This went on for over a week and then it finally dawned on me. Hemingway was right. No matter how dark it might look the Sun Also Rises.

It was suppertime and my wife and I were just beginning our evening repast. It was a relaxing time of celebrating the day with some delectable home cooking. Grace had been said, and I had just picked up my fork to attack the scrupulous meal when I noticed it. At first, I could not believe what I was hearing.
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It was 10:00 a.m. the day before Thanksgiving. In just a few hours the doors to our inner-city church would open, and we would host our urban neighbors, many of whom were Native Americans, to a free Thanksgiving dinner.

We were making last-minute preparations when we heard a loud knock at the front door. Another interruption, we thought as we trudged toward the door. When we opened the door, we were greeted by two delivery men from Sears.

“Will you sign for this?” one of the men asked as he shoved a clipboard my way.

“Sure, what is it?”

“A freezer,” he answered.

“We didn’t order a freezer.”

“Someone did,” he said. With that, he and his burly partner pushed past me and wheeled a full-length deep freeze up the steep steps and into our church.
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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

I have always suspected it but, being the gentleman that I am, I have never made an issue of it. Now, I have scientific evidence to support my long-held suspicions.

I’m not one to gloat but this does call for some kind of celebration. After all, it is not every day things go my way. And, it’s not every day that I can pull one over on the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, and have scientific evidence to back me up.

I cannot tell how many years she has harassed me about washing my hands, especially before dinner. “Have you washed your hands yet?” “Go wash your hands before dinner.” “I hope you washed your hands.”
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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

Now that the 100-year race for the Oval Office is completed… or so it seems… we can all get back to what we were doing prior to this event. The problem is, I cannot remember what I was doing before all of this nonsense began.

Oh, yes. I remember now. We were all complaining about how stupid our government leaders were and how the politicians were making a mess of things.

For those of you who think a presidential election changes all of this, I have some wonderful swampland that I can let you have at a good price. And if you can’t afford the price, there are some amazing bailout programs coming from Washington DC.

Every four years we go through the motions of electing a president thinking a new president brings a magical spell to our country called “change.” It is amazing that the more things change in Washington DC, the more they remain the same.
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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

I do not often get under the weather; after all, as tall as I am my head is usually in the clouds. At least, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage thinks this is the case. And who is to argue with her. But this time I was under the weather.

My head was stuffed and every other breath I took I had a sneezing fit. I felt miserable. I looked miserable. I know this because my wife said, “You looked miserable.” And, I was miserable.

Being in such a delicate condition, I had completely forgotten what time of the year it was. In fact, I did not even know what time of the day it was.

I vaguely remember my wife saying something to the effect that she was going somewhere and to be ready for something or other. In my condition, I could not have cared less. She could have taken a trip to the moon and I would not have cared. All I wanted was to be left alone to wallow in my ocean of misery.
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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

It was one of those weeks when I was not feeling up to par. Even though I do not play golf I felt a few strokes less than normal, and every little thing teed me off.

I just was feeling rather poorly and wandered around the house in a listless manner. It seemed like I had some kind of nervous jitters. I would sit for a few minutes and then get up and walk around and then I would sit again, all the while speaking incoherently.

It got so bad the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage noticed I was acting stranger than normal. She is an authority on the various levels of strangeness in our house, especially those associated with Yours Truly.

There is the normal level of strangeness of me just walking around with a goofy look on my face.

Then, there is the strangeness that pervades my person when I have done something wrong or have forgotten to do something I was emphatically told to do. This ranks a close second to the first one.
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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

Unwinding from a very busy day, the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and Yours Truly, were trying to find something to watch on TV. Have you ever noticed when you do have some time and want to watch a little TV all they have are reruns? However, this night was a little different. The only thing showing were award programs.

It seems everybody has some kind of award program for everything and everybody.

Sighing deeply my wife said, “There’s never anything good to watch on TV anymore. Just these award programs.”

I sympathized with her, but what could I do?

“I think,” she said, “there ought to be some kind of Knucklehead award for all those knuckleheads out there.”

We laughed together. But when the laughter subsided, I got to thinking. Maybe there should be a National Knucklehead Award program. After all, there are award programs for everything else and there are no shortages of knuckleheads in our country.

Right off the bat, several categories came to mind.

The first category of Knuckleheads would have to be those national news reporters. After all, they put a lot of energy into becoming knuckleheads.

For example. During the last hurricane in Texas one TV news reporter did his entire two-hour program standing waist deep in water. Where are those alligators when you really need them? What kind of person stands waist deep in water while it is still raining and the hurricane is in full force? I’ll tell you what kind of person, a knucklehead. Plain and simple anybody who does not know enough to come in out of the rain when it is raining has to be a knucklehead.
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A Christian Comedy Essay By Rev. James L. Snyder

In our house, we have a saying. “A penny saved is a borderline miracle.” Like most people, we find it very difficult to save when it comes to money. We have in the dark recesses of our back bedroom closet a little piggy bank designated for emergencies.

Unfortunately, we have come to the point in our financial situation that our piggy bank needs to come out of the closet. The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and Yours Truly had hoped this time would never come. It is rather embarrassing when something like this happens.

When we first put the Piggy Bank in the closet, it was supposed to be for some rainy day occasion. Or, to save up for a little vacation time. All throughout the years, we have talked about that little “nest egg” lying in the back of our bedroom closet. Oh, the plans we were hatching for that growing little pot of gold. It was comforting to know that it was there if we needed it.
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