Some Keep the Sabbath Going to Church
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church --
I keep it, staying at Home --
With a Bobolink for a Chorister --
And an Orchard, for a Dome --
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice --
I just wear my Wings --
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton -- sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman --
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at least --
I'm going, all along.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Boy Out Of Church
As Jesus and his followers
Upon a Sabbath morn
Were walking by a wheat field
They plucked the ears of corn.
They plucked it, they rubbed it,
They blew the husks away,
Which grieved the pious pharisees
Upon the Sabbath day.
And Jesus said, 'A riddle
Answer if you can,
Was man made for the Sabbath
Or Sabbath made for man?'
I do not love the Sabbath,
The soapsuds and the starch,
The troops of solemn people
Who to Salvation march.
I take my book, I take my stick
On the Sabbath day,
In woody nooks and valleys
I hide myself away.
To ponder there in quiet
God's Universal Plan,
Resolved that church and Sabbath
Were never made for man.
poem by Robert Graves
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If ever a man could have felt the church to be unnecessary, he was Jesus. Yet he did not stay away form the church of his day. It was his custom to go to the synagogue on the Sabbath, and he made many trips to the temple.
quote by R. Brokhoff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Recusant
THE CHURCH stands there beyond the orchard-blooms:
How yearningly I gaze upon its spire!
Lifted mysterious through the twilight glooms,
Dissolving in the sunset’s golden fire,
Or dim as slender incense morn by morn
Ascending to the blue and open sky.
For ever when my heart feels most forlorn
It murmurs to me with a weary sigh,
How sweet to enter in, to kneel and pray
With all the others whom we love so well!
All disbelief and, doubt might pass away,
All peace float to us with its Sabbath bell.
Conscience replies, There is but one good rest,
Whose head is pillowed upon Truth’s pure breast.
poem by James Thomson
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I Can Hear The Funeral Bell
I can hear the funeral bell tolling in the church across the way
Calling in the family and friends of the deceased one for to pray
For the soul of the departed though what happens to the soul
When life's last breath we have taken would seem beyond our control,
Tolling slow and tolling loudly carrying in the freshening breeze
Out there in the sunlit Parkland birds are whistling on the trees
Life on Earth goes on as usual though to life people come and go
Though of a life after death it would seem none can say that they truly know,
Listening to the bell toll slowly makes me once again recall
My own very fragile mortality there's a last day for us all,
Life is brief the years go quickly time does not wait for you or I
And they say the longer we live the sooner we are going to die
And though the funeral bell is tolling in the house of prayer nearby
Swallows chirp above the Parkland in the bright and sunny sky.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Perfection
If I could practise what I preach,
Of fellows there would few be finer;
If I were true to what I teach
My life would be a lot diviner.
If I would act the way I speak,
Of halo I might be a winner:
The spirit wills, the flesh is weak,--
I'm just a simple sinner.
Six days I stray,--on number seven
I try to be a little better,
And stake a tiny claim on Heaven
By clinging close to gospel letter.
My pew I occupy on Sunday,
And though I draw the line at snoring,
I must admit I long for Monday,
And find the sermon boring.
Although from godly grace I fall,
For sensed with sin my every act is,
'Twere better not to preach at all,
Then I would have no need to practice.
So Sabbath day I'll sneak away,
And though the Church grieve my defection,
In sunny woodland I will pray:
"God save us from Perfection!"
poem by Robert William Service
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When the bell tolls
At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
I know that there
is more to life
than just living.
On a Sunday
the bell tolls almost endlessly,
(like a alarm clock)
before the service begins.
At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
it rings for a funeral
and I am glad
that I’m alive.
At a wedding
the bell sings a joyful song
and everyone smiles at each other
and wait for the bride to appear.
In the dead of night
the bell tolls lonely
no one cares about
the time that it keeps,
as sleep creeps deeper
into everybody’s soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Two Little Orphans
Two little children a boy and a girl
Sat by and old church door
The little girls feet were as brown as the curl
That fell on the dress that she wore
The little boys clothes were all tattered and torn
They shone beneath his blue eyes
Why dont you go home to your mommy I said
And this was the maidens reply
Mommys is heaven angels took her away
Left jim and I all alone
Weve no one to love us daddy is dead
And our darling mother is gone
Mommy got sick angels took her away
To dwell in those matins so bright
She said she would come for her children someday
And I guess shes coming tonight
The sexton came early to ring the church bell
And found them beneath the snow white
The angels made room for the orphans to dwell
Up in heaven with their mommy that night
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Holy Sabbath Day
God created the things He thought
Over the six days of the week,
And being pleased with His own work,
The Sabbath Day of rest, He sought!
God made the Sabbath Day for man
So that his body, heart and mind,
From week-days’ drudgery, rest find,
And thereby increase his life’s span!
God made the Sabbath Day holy
So that man could be nearer God,
And keep his soul afilled with grace,
And keep the heaven’s road always!
The Sabbath Day is crucial
For man to keep off diseases
Those afflict him these modern days,
And add more years to life on earth.
The Sabbath is the answer to
The affluent illnesses that
Affect most men including stress,
Avoiding all things of excess!
Man, keep the Sabbath Day holy;
Give rest to body, mind and heart;
Cleanse soul from sins by divine art,
And do your duty for your part.
On this day, think of God much more,
And thank Him for His blessings shown;
Pray fervently from your heart’s core,
And keep off evils known, unknown!
For, holy, holy is the Lord
Of heavens, earth – the most high God;
Whatever He says may look odd;
All will be fine, heeding His Word!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-23-2009
poem by John Celes
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I was so frustrated in Sabbath after the last few albums. I just didn't like the musical direction Sabbath was going in.
quote by Geezer Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song Of The Bell. (From The German)
Bell! thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie!
Bell! thou soundest solemnly.
When, on Sabbath morning,
Fields deserted lie!
Bell! thou soundest merrily;
Tellest thou at evening,
Bed-time draweth nigh!
Bell! thou soundest mournfully.
Tellest thou the bitter
Parting hath gone by!
Say! how canst thou mourn?
How canst thou rejoice?
Thou art but metal dull!
And yet all our sorrowings,
Arid all our rejoicings,
Thou dost feel them all!
God hath wonders many,
Which we cannot fathom,
Placed within thy form!
When the heart is sinking,
Thou alone canst raise it,
Trembling in the storm!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The sound of a church bell at times has more effect than a sermon.
Some Have Steeples. Some Don't
What do I think of church?
'Yes! '
Church?
Like in 'church' church?
'Yes! '
Well...
Some have steeples.
Some don't.
Some have people.
Some wont.
Some are religiously political.
And some are politically religious.
My vehicle is my church.
And that's all I care about.
'Oh?
So your 'car' is your church? '
Oh.
No no!
My 'body' is my church.
It is my sanctuary.
Now...
Keep in mind,
I am not devoted to keep it as pure,
As it should be.
But I do the best I can,
Not to be led away by temptation.
But everyday I pray to be forgiven,
Of those 'sins' I know I should not enjoy!
However...
You can find me anytime,
Self righteously defending...
My point of view.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I believe the Sabbath; I keep the Sabbath.
quote by John Harvey Kellogg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shepherd's Sabbath Song
Schäfers Sonntagslied
Ich bin so hold den sanften Tagen,
Das ist der Tag des Herrn!
Ich bin allein auf weiter Flur;
Noch eine Morgenglocke nur,
Nun Stille nah und fern.
Anbetend knie ich hier.
O süßes Graun! geheimes Wehn!
Als knieten viele ungesehn
Und beteten mit mir.
Der Himmel nah und fern,
Er ist so klar und feierlich,
So ganz, als wollt’ er öffnen sich.
Das ist der Tag des Herrn!
This is the Sabbath day!
The Shepherd's Sabbath Song
In the wide field I am alone.
Hark! now one morning bell's sweet tone--
Now it has died away.
Kneeling, I worship Thee:
Sweet dread doth o'er my spirit steal,
From whispering sounds of those who kneel,
Unseen, to pray with me.
Around and far away
So clear and solemn is the sky,
It seems all opening to my eye:
This is the Sabbath day!
poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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Sabbath, My Love
greet my love with wine and gladsome lay;
Welcome, thrice welcome, joyous Seventh Day!
Six slaves the weekdays are; I share
With them a round of toil and care,
Yet light the burdens seem, I bear
For your sweet sake, Sabbath, my love!
On the First-day to the accustomed task
I go content, nor reward ask,
Save in your smile, at length, to bask --
Day blessed of God, Sabbath, my love!
Is the Second-day dull, the Third-day unbright?
Hide sun and stars from the Fourth-day's sight?
What need I care, who have your light,
Orb of my life, Sabbath, my love!
The Fifth-day, joyful tidings ring:
"The morrow shall your freedom bring!"
At dawn a slave, at eve a king --
God's table waits, Sabbath, my love!
On the Sixth-day does my cup overflow,
What blissful rest the night shall know,
When, in your arms, my toil and woe
Are all forgotten, Sabbath, my love!
Now it's dusk. With sudden light distilled
From one sweet face, the world is filled;
The tumult of my heart is stilled --
For you have arrived, Sabbath, my love!
Bring fruits and wine, and sing a cheerful lay,
Chant: "Come in peace, O blissful Seventh Day!"
poem by Yehudah HaLevi
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Reality On Sunday Mass
the sunday sermon of
the priest on tv sometimes
becomes noise
to me but in reverence of
the church
i do not switch if off i
do not change the
channel
like the life we live
we tolerate
the religion of the angry
self-righteous and
always soliciting
church
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Church & The Perfect Fit
Too loose.Too long.Too short.Too big.Too small.
Describes most of the clothes we wear.
Like finding the right church that's the perfect fit
Is always a struggle of hope, patience and prayer.
God wants us to fit together with one another
With our beliefs, attitudes, patriotism and love.
No church is perfect cause their run by men
As we assemble our souls to praise Heaven above.
David wrote; 'I Know O Lord Your judgement is right'
For he was aware of what happens when we stray
It helps us maintain our moral servitude
When we gather at church, sing, worship and pray.
Christ takes each sin, each pain, each loss,
So that our lives exalt His name.
And by the power of His sacrifice upon the cross
He transforms our brokeness, weakness and shame.
Martha
SEXTON! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Her weary hands their labor cease;
Good night, poor Martha,-- sleep in peace!
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha 's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
For many a year has Martha said,
"I'm old and poor,-- would I were dead!"
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
She'll bring no more, by day or night,
Her basket full of linen white.
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
'Tis fitting she should lie below
A pure white sheet of drifted snow.
Toll the bell!
Sexton! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Sleep, Martha, sleep, to wake in light,
Where all the robes are stainless white.
Toll the bell!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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The Rowfant Catalogue
Friends had he many, neighbours next to none.
Rowfant and Crabbet lay few fields apart.
Each Sunday saw him here, his church drill done,
Duly stroll in to talk of books and art,
Entrapped, may--be, to share my modest tart,
Roast fowl and claret, and an evening won
In stealth from Sabbath bonds strange to his heart.
Childlike he prized these truant bursts of fun.
--Long years ago! It needs his wit to jog
Old time to life. Yet I remember well
Companioning him home to the hill's top
Keen on his books, and how he paused to tell
Eager the first news of this Catalogue.
Reading it, see, the tears come and I stop.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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