This is another exercise I wrote in 1999 at Ring Lake Ranch while on Sabbatical. The assignment was to write about a religious artifact.
bulletin.docx
The transition from an edifice-oriented bulletin cover (featuring the same drawing of our church every week) to the denominational bulletin service was more controversial than I knew, I am sure. But nobody involves teens in such matters and I knew nothing about how the decision came to be made.
When I began ushering at my church in the 1961, we arrived early enough to do a variety of chores around the meeting house. We checked to be sure the doors were unlocked. We turned on the lights. We lit the candles on the communion table (there were no acolytes during the service in those days)! Finally we began the longest and most tedious of jobs, folding the bulletin covers and sheets, and stuffing them with that week’s inserts.
We youth ushers-all boys of high school age-had the right to usher at the 9:30 service, The grown men (mostly gentlemen our grandfathers’ age) ushered at the “main” service at 11:oo am. While both women and men served as Deacons and prepared and distributed the Lord’s Supper, ushering was still a masculine privilege.
Our family had always sat at the right rear of the church. Just in front of my Mom’s father and mother. But as an usher who was a high school freshman with an agenda, the left side was the place to be. Sure Pete Petersen, my first boss, a deputy sheriff and Democratic Party boss, sat on the right. Yes, my aunts and uncles were always by the right hand windows. Of course, Miss Sparhawk, my high school French teacher, sat near the front in the right center. And yes Jennie Cowles the children’s librarian was right next to her.
But on the left sat the Grays, the Costellos, the Smithsons, the Billinghams, the Brackovskis and the Buchanans. And that meant that Shirley, Marie, Nancy, Jane, Donna, Patty, Lois, and Rebecca sat on the left side. No more Sunday School for any of us. We had all been confirmed and were in Pilgrim Fellowship. My first Sunday, Mark Grady and Bill Gerard chose the right side. They were Seniors and had first pick. My friend and classmate Jimmy DiSanto was amazed, “Are they blind? Why are they letting us have this side?” I had been waiting for this day and understood. “They chose the right side so they can play with the lights, plus the usher on the extreme right always gets to take the attendance.”
We looked at each other and grinned. In our gray suits, narrow nylon ties-with their helpful hints (Wear with brown sport jacket) printed on a tag on the back seam, hair parted in the Dobie Gillis style, we winked at each other, sure of our irresistablilty to our female classmates whom we would be seating in a few minutes. And so it continued, week after week, passing out bulletins with stern Prophet’s faces to the girls of our dreams. We were sure we were making a good impression on their parents, too. Not knowing of course, that parental approval was the worst recommendation a young man could have.
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Pastor Fuller's Blog 
The Sunday Service Bulletins
Posted in Commentary, observations, tagged Confirmation. Teenagers. adulthood., Family values, Sundays, Teens, Worship on October 8, 2011|
This is another exercise I wrote in 1999 at Ring Lake Ranch while on Sabbatical. The assignment was to write about a religious artifact.
bulletin.docx
The transition from an edifice-oriented bulletin cover (featuring the same drawing of our church every week) to the denominational bulletin service was more controversial than I knew, I am sure. But nobody involves teens in such matters and I knew nothing about how the decision came to be made.
When I began ushering at my church in the 1961, we arrived early enough to do a variety of chores around the meeting house. We checked to be sure the doors were unlocked. We turned on the lights. We lit the candles on the communion table (there were no acolytes during the service in those days)! Finally we began the longest and most tedious of jobs, folding the bulletin covers and sheets, and stuffing them with that week’s inserts.
We youth ushers-all boys of high school age-had the right to usher at the 9:30 service, The grown men (mostly gentlemen our grandfathers’ age) ushered at the “main” service at 11:oo am. While both women and men served as Deacons and prepared and distributed the Lord’s Supper, ushering was still a masculine privilege.
Our family had always sat at the right rear of the church. Just in front of my Mom’s father and mother. But as an usher who was a high school freshman with an agenda, the left side was the place to be. Sure Pete Petersen, my first boss, a deputy sheriff and Democratic Party boss, sat on the right. Yes, my aunts and uncles were always by the right hand windows. Of course, Miss Sparhawk, my high school French teacher, sat near the front in the right center. And yes Jennie Cowles the children’s librarian was right next to her.
But on the left sat the Grays, the Costellos, the Smithsons, the Billinghams, the Brackovskis and the Buchanans. And that meant that Shirley, Marie, Nancy, Jane, Donna, Patty, Lois, and Rebecca sat on the left side. No more Sunday School for any of us. We had all been confirmed and were in Pilgrim Fellowship. My first Sunday, Mark Grady and Bill Gerard chose the right side. They were Seniors and had first pick. My friend and classmate Jimmy DiSanto was amazed, “Are they blind? Why are they letting us have this side?” I had been waiting for this day and understood. “They chose the right side so they can play with the lights, plus the usher on the extreme right always gets to take the attendance.”
We looked at each other and grinned. In our gray suits, narrow nylon ties-with their helpful hints (Wear with brown sport jacket) printed on a tag on the back seam, hair parted in the Dobie Gillis style, we winked at each other, sure of our irresistablilty to our female classmates whom we would be seating in a few minutes. And so it continued, week after week, passing out bulletins with stern Prophet’s faces to the girls of our dreams. We were sure we were making a good impression on their parents, too. Not knowing of course, that parental approval was the worst recommendation a young man could have.
Read Full Post »