Amy Barlow Liberatore… stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz

Tag Archives: Synagogue

SPEAKING MY MIND

Never one to hold back,
even at the ever-so-proper
Council of Churches.

An abnormal annual worship
of all churches and temples
joined in the fight against hunger.

See, it was “ecumenical,”
which in the interim director’s mind
meant “Don’t offend Jews and Muslims

by even mentioning Jesus.” So we
gather in a lavish Catholic church,
and there’s a big old Corpus at the altar.

Jesus, dangling from a ginormous cross,
bloody side and all, eyes downturned,
but the director deleted his name.

Two days later, at a staff meeting,
everyone was grumbling about how
Jesus wasn’t invited to the party,

when 22 churches, a synagogue, and
a Muslim temple sent reps. “Politically
correct” was the term of the day…

…until the Director entered the room.
Then a hush. Then she asked, “Does anyone
have any thoughts about the worship?”

I looked around the table. Twenty people
shifted in their chairs. I raised my hand.
“Barbara, it was lavish but awful. You didn’t mention

the name of the real director of the Council of
Churches once.” She blanched. Crickets chirped
and people looked at me but didn’t say jack.

As though educating me, she crowed, “This was
an ecumenical service. I don’t think you understand
what that means.” And OF COURSE I had to say:

“I’m not a moron. Ecumenism is embrace of ALL faiths,
meeting on common ground. So you should have
included Jesus, Moses, AND the Prophet Mohammed.

“There was a big bloody Jesus nailed on the cross.”
(The others waited, breath bated. I was going to quit anyway.)
“The service was crap, but nobody seems to want to tell you that.”

You’a thought the roof would fall in or
lightening would strike me as I left, box of personals in hand.
But no, it WAS the First Horse of the Apocalypse,

the Horse that, incidentally, took a large dump on
the Director as it raced by, headed for the White House
so George W. Bush could get the next load.

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

This is a true story, written for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads (roof caves in) and using words from Three Word Wednesday. Of course I was not medicated for my bipolar, so I probably would have used more proper language had it been today… but I still would have railed against her condescension and called her out on offending hundreds of Christian volunteers, as well as raising eyebrows with both the rabbi and the Imam! Speaking truth to power is never easy, but it can be a helluva lot of fun!! Peace, Amy