Preacher: Welcome, brothers and sisters, to Worshippers-'R'-Us, the first church of all denominations. Please open your generic prayer books and pray along with me as you stand, sit, kneel, face Mecca, or dance
(praying)
Oh large person or persons of whatever gender
Or branch of the animal kingdom
Who did something great
And is now someplace where we aren't
Please forgive us for whatever you deem bad
And help us to do whatever strikes you as good
Whether that be to work hard, eat no pork, or wage a holy war
Grant us whatever you tend to grant
Unless you don't interfere with earthly concerns
Watch over us
Or save us from evil
Or let us find out for ourselves
Or damn us randomly
Amen, praise Allah, have a nice day...
Preacher: May the being, as you define Him, Her, or It be with you
Congregation: And also with you
Preacher: Let us give thanks for (a) divine intervention, or (b) divine abstention
Congregation: It is right to give Him or Her thanks and praise
Preacher: May peace dwell here amongst us... and keep us free from WAR!
Congregation: [sort of unison grunt] Uh!
Preacher: WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR?!
Congregation: Absolutely nothing
Preacher: SAY IT AGAIN!
Brothers and sisters... Last Thursday, during our annual Baptist jihad/barbecue, I was flipping the meatless kosher hydroponically-grown food product on the grill, when a stranger approached me. He asked me, "Why bother? Why bother trying to organise a religion which synthesises all faiths and beliefs? Why bother organising weekly prayer/fiesta/sword dances?" Why bother?
But then, I hearkened back to the origin of all our religions, of all our faiths, and I gave unto him the answer; the answer that has sustained all religions can also sustain us. Why bother?
Just 'cause!
Now before we christen the babies, walk over burning coals, form a human pyramid, and proceed out to the street corners to chant for spare change, I'd like to make a few announcements! Next Sunday is young Mazimoro Kyoto's bar mitzvah/confirmation. We'll be down at the river at sunset, dunking him in the waters, circumcising him with a stick, and chopping off his hands for stealing. So, come on down and wish him well. There will be self-flagellation and coffee served in the Friendship Room afterwards
Mrs. Edmonds?
(hymn)
Some think he's a rock
Or a big cosmic clock
Some think he's a bug who just hovered
Some think he's a bird
An idea or a turd
But at least we've got our a**es covered
Amen, praise Allah, have a nice day...