For a church to survive they need customers more than believers. If we rely on ourselves for our daily bread how come someone else decides the menu? Thank you for your social commentary poem Theresa!
Blessed are the Greeks, moussaka and gyros and the like, the Greek shall inherit the Earth.
As long as they continue to maintain their sponsorship deal at its current level.
And blessed are the taco makers, they are the children of God, although Burrito Joe’s level of contribution mandates he be listed beneath Souvlaki By on our Commandments.
But beware the yeast of the Pharisees, especially Angelo’s bakery. Any cannoli, tarts, scones or muffins will be confiscated.
Come to me, for I am the living water, although please do not bring in bottled water or any other beverage from the Grilled Cheese food truck parked out front which is prohibited.
No food is unclean in and of itself but bringing in anything from Kwong Ming will be viewed as an abomination.
I am the bread of life although please limit consumption to pita or tortillas per the signage.
And as man does not live by bread alone, we recommend the Tour of Athens sampler platter or the Empanadas Grande.
The tone was hushed as Selma and Ryder reached their seats. The lights had just been dimmed. Clapping started to break out in anticipation.
Ryder surveyed the ancient building. He leaned over mid clap and whispered in Selma’s ear, “That’s quite the rock’n’roll name they gave this venue.”
“What?” said Selma.
Ryder leaned closer. “That’s quite the name they gave this venue.”
“No Food Inside The Church! No one forgets their first time here,” she said with a giggle.
The spotlight lit up the microphone as more in unison applause broke out.
A voice broke out over the speakers. “Let’s give it up for Souvlaki By and Burrito Joe!”
The applause thunderously filled the air accompanied by some stamping feet. Ryder smiled as he took a sideways glimpse of Selma who enthusiastically was rocking to their biggest hit Exception in The Pews. Ryder joined in the celebration.
As the last of the music died down they found themselves standing outside looking up at the old venue. The doors were hanging off the hinges. Windows were missing panes.
“They don’t make them like they used to,” reflected Ryder, upon entering the graveyard.
As they paused by a headstone Selma said, ”Until next time?”
“Definitely,” replied Ryder, who, being quite the gentleman, watched as Selma returned to her stately rest.
“Definitely next time,” said Ryder as he wandered off in search of his headstone.
Oh my goodness, this is hilarious! "NO FOOD INSIDE THE CHURCH -EXCEPTION- SOUVLAKI BY & BURRITO JOE -IN THE PEWS-"
I love everything about this sign. There's something so beautifully human about the fact that someone felt compelled to make an official exception for specific food vendors. Like, "We have sacred rules about food in the sanctuary... BUT if Souvlaki By & Burrito Joe want to set up shop in the pews, well, that's different!"
It's giving me major Brother Lawrence vibes - the sacred and the ordinary all mixed up together. Who says you can't have a spiritual experience while eating a burrito in a pew? Maybe that's exactly where some people need to meet God - over good food, in community, breaking the formal rules in the most delightfully practical way.
And there's something so wonderfully specific about it. Not just "food vendors allowed" but these particular guys who apparently earned their ecclesiastical food privileges. I'm imagining the church board meeting: "Well, we can't let just ANYONE serve food in here, but Souvlaki By & Burrito Joe? They're practically clergy at this point."
It feels like the kind of sign that would make you smile every time you walked past it - a little reminder that grace shows up in the most unexpected, beautifully ordinary ways.
The church has gone capitalistic
I think I'm gonna be terribly sick
No food for you and you and you.
What will the really poor do ?
The church is supposed to feed the poor
Why are they shutting the door
For only those who can pay
We are now in the darkest days
Oh Jesus , hear my pkea
Your church stinks and needs to be
Rehabilitated so it knows what to do
Serving the poor, ,the sick, the unshoed
Why is capitalism everywhere ?,
How st it that they even dare
to enter the sacred place ?
What a horrible disgrace !
Thank you, Writer Pilgrim !
Thank you , Scott!
Thank you , David!
Thank you , Bill !
For a church to survive they need customers more than believers. If we rely on ourselves for our daily bread how come someone else decides the menu? Thank you for your social commentary poem Theresa!
Line 9: plea
Open Table
Blessed are the Greeks, moussaka and gyros and the like, the Greek shall inherit the Earth.
As long as they continue to maintain their sponsorship deal at its current level.
And blessed are the taco makers, they are the children of God, although Burrito Joe’s level of contribution mandates he be listed beneath Souvlaki By on our Commandments.
But beware the yeast of the Pharisees, especially Angelo’s bakery. Any cannoli, tarts, scones or muffins will be confiscated.
Come to me, for I am the living water, although please do not bring in bottled water or any other beverage from the Grilled Cheese food truck parked out front which is prohibited.
No food is unclean in and of itself but bringing in anything from Kwong Ming will be viewed as an abomination.
I am the bread of life although please limit consumption to pita or tortillas per the signage.
And as man does not live by bread alone, we recommend the Tour of Athens sampler platter or the Empanadas Grande.
Amen
A piece of bread and food is rarely well travelled! This symbolism and well versed humour is out of this world! Amazing stuff Scott!
The pics are so provocative it writes itself, thank you!
I’m glad you see it that way!
The tone was hushed as Selma and Ryder reached their seats. The lights had just been dimmed. Clapping started to break out in anticipation.
Ryder surveyed the ancient building. He leaned over mid clap and whispered in Selma’s ear, “That’s quite the rock’n’roll name they gave this venue.”
“What?” said Selma.
Ryder leaned closer. “That’s quite the name they gave this venue.”
“No Food Inside The Church! No one forgets their first time here,” she said with a giggle.
The spotlight lit up the microphone as more in unison applause broke out.
A voice broke out over the speakers. “Let’s give it up for Souvlaki By and Burrito Joe!”
The applause thunderously filled the air accompanied by some stamping feet. Ryder smiled as he took a sideways glimpse of Selma who enthusiastically was rocking to their biggest hit Exception in The Pews. Ryder joined in the celebration.
As the last of the music died down they found themselves standing outside looking up at the old venue. The doors were hanging off the hinges. Windows were missing panes.
“They don’t make them like they used to,” reflected Ryder, upon entering the graveyard.
As they paused by a headstone Selma said, ”Until next time?”
“Definitely,” replied Ryder, who, being quite the gentleman, watched as Selma returned to her stately rest.
“Definitely next time,” said Ryder as he wandered off in search of his headstone.
Lost in the darkness yet peppered with humour! Thank you Bill!
Oh my goodness, this is hilarious! "NO FOOD INSIDE THE CHURCH -EXCEPTION- SOUVLAKI BY & BURRITO JOE -IN THE PEWS-"
I love everything about this sign. There's something so beautifully human about the fact that someone felt compelled to make an official exception for specific food vendors. Like, "We have sacred rules about food in the sanctuary... BUT if Souvlaki By & Burrito Joe want to set up shop in the pews, well, that's different!"
It's giving me major Brother Lawrence vibes - the sacred and the ordinary all mixed up together. Who says you can't have a spiritual experience while eating a burrito in a pew? Maybe that's exactly where some people need to meet God - over good food, in community, breaking the formal rules in the most delightfully practical way.
And there's something so wonderfully specific about it. Not just "food vendors allowed" but these particular guys who apparently earned their ecclesiastical food privileges. I'm imagining the church board meeting: "Well, we can't let just ANYONE serve food in here, but Souvlaki By & Burrito Joe? They're practically clergy at this point."
It feels like the kind of sign that would make you smile every time you walked past it - a little reminder that grace shows up in the most unexpected, beautifully ordinary ways.