Rev. Snyder Archive

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After Thanksgiving Feasting Comes The Loafing

Twenty-four hours ago, I was seated with my family and friends around the Thanksgiving table. Now, I am seated in my chair and cannot move. I won’t say I ate too much yesterday. I did, I just won’t say it.

Why is it on Thanksgiving we give ourselves permission to gorge ourselves to the point of semi-consciousness? The difference between consciousness and semi-consciousness is that with semi-consciousness you feel like you have been run over by a semi-truck.

Of course, a great thing about Thanksgiving is the fabulous dinner spread, surrounded by family and friends. It is truly a time to give thanks to God for the manifold blessings he has showered on us throughout the year. Although there have been a few drought times during the past year, God’s showers of blessing always came at the right time.

Thanksgiving Day is for the diet-challenged person. Nothing is more challenging to me than my diet. And of this in particular I am most grateful for Thanksgiving. It is the one day of the year I can toss caution to the wind (which is the only exercise I get on Thanksgiving) and forget my diet carefully supervised by the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage.

It is not that I take advantage of the situation … okay, so I do take advantage of the situation. However, that is the glorious aspect of holidays like Thanksgiving. The person, me in particular, can get away with things that the rest of the year would be impossible. And I’m not just thinking of that second piece of pumpkin pie.

The second great thing about Thanksgiving is the day after. The business community refers to this day as Black Friday. They mean, of course, it is a day when they turn their ledger from red to black.

Whoever invented the shopping frenzy associated with the day after Thanksgiving should be congratulated and offered the Nobel Peace Prize. Black Friday in our home is when my wife and our daughters leave the house early in the morning to spend the entire day shopping and I get the opportunity to black out for the entire day. If I may say so, it is a glorious day of loafing.

The feast like we usually have on Thanksgiving Day requires at least one full day of concentrating and allowing the meal to digest, no matter how long it takes. The older I get the longer it takes my digestive system to complete its work. My philosophy is, don’t rush the process.

I’m all for cooperation. I believe this world would get along much better if everybody would just cooperate. I set the example by cooperating with my digestive system for the entire day.

I have found the best way to assist my digestive system is to spend the day loafing. And I have managed to bring loafing to a finely developed art. It has taken years for me to get to this point of expertise. Throughout the years, I have developed the finesse associated with total loafing that should be recorded somewhere.

My expertise in this area is most remarkable for the simple fact that I only get to practice this one day out of the year. I can assure you that one day is intensely devoted to the strenuous activity of loafing.

If you promise not to let this get back to you know who, I do get in an odd day every now and again to practice for this day. Nobody can reach the pinnacle of success I have on this matter without some kind of practice throughout the year. I am completely devoted to my art, as any other artist would be.

In case someone gets the wrong idea about all of this, let me assure you that loafing has certain health benefits. Of course, if I am caught practicing my loafing when my wife has instructed me to do some things around the house, it has an adverse effect on my health. The key here is to practice loafing when your wife is out of the house shopping the entire day, which is why Black Friday was invented.

It is a proven fact that most of the people in our country today are overworked and totally stressed out by their lives. In spite of all the technology available to us, we are a nation that has forgotten how to rest.

Years ago in our country, when we were more Christian than we are today, we set aside Sunday as the day of rest. That has completely gone by the wayside as we became a culture of 24/7 activity. The only solution all our experts have come up with is to pop a pill and keep on going.

A friend of mine has a marvelous saying, “Either come apart and rest a while, or you will simply come apart.” I like that.

Jesus said something similar. “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30 KJV.)

We have learned how to feast and our buffet table is loaded with goodies. Perhaps it would be a good time to take some time to rest and let our soul settle and digest the rich blessings of god.

 

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Give Us This Day Our Turkey . . . Again

By Rev. James L. Snyder

Thanksgiving is my kind of holiday. Apart from the “thanks” part, the primary purpose of this celebration is eating. That is the one thing I do quite well.

Thanksgiving is the beginning of a feasting frenzy that would make Richard Simmons sweat to the goodies. Any thoughts of dieting at this time of the year are merely blowing in the wind. Hopefully, not in my direction.

Our Pilgrim Fathers came up with the idea of a Thanksgiving feast. The Pilgrim Mothers were too busy doing the wash and caring for the children to think of any more work.

The Pilgrim Fathers were sitting around waiting for someone to invent television so they could all watch a football game when someone had an idea. Most ideas are born in the midst of great boredom. That is why so many of them are…well…stupid.

“There’s nothing to do,” one bored Pilgrim Father said. “Let’s get together and have a feast.” Because nothing else was happening, the other Pilgrim Fathers got excited about this idea. The Pilgrim Mothers, however, had some different thoughts about this crazy feast idea.

After all, they would have to do all the work and Oprah Winfrey had not been born yet to lead them in a chorus of whining and complaining and getting in touch with their real feelings.

The Pilgrim Mothers wanted a Tupperware party, but since it was not yet a two-party system, they could only do one party. The Pilgrim Fathers won this one.

However, like the good Puritan wives they were, they humored their husbands and began preparations for the first Thanksgiving feast. Because this was the first Thanksgiving, it was a simple affair compared with the ones to follow.

At the first one nobody said, “We’ve always done it this way.” Because it was never done before. However, the second Thanksgiving was beset with this sort of thing. A tradition, someone wisely pointed out, is something done at least once.

What the Pilgrim Mothers did not count on was company for dinner. After all, they were thousands of miles from their nearest relatives with a big pond between them. They assumed, and rightly so, that they were safe from the intrusion of company on what would be the heaviest workday for the kitchen crew.

Have you ever noticed that when you are planning a feast of some kind, relatives who never bother you the rest of the year (something to be thankful for) seem to gravitate to your gravy bowl?

There is nothing like unexpected company to put pizzazz in a Thanksgiving celebration. Who wants pizza for Thanksgiving when there is so much turkey?

Imagine the Pilgrim Mother’s surprise when the Pilgrim Fathers told them (probably on Thanksgiving morning) that they had invited guests for the feast. I can imagine some ears were stinging that first Thanksgiving Day. The Pilgrim Fathers braved through the stinging rebukes from their wives…for months.

Perhaps the biggest anomaly of Thanksgiving is the mountain of leftovers the next day and for weeks to follow. No matter how much turkey is gobbled up or how many people are around that Thanksgiving table, the leftovers are enormous.

There is more turkey on Friday than on Thanksgiving.

I  cannot prove this, but I highly suspect the turkeys we have today keep growing even after we cook them. Maybe when placed in a cold refrigerator over night, they expand.

I really do not know what takes place, but something happens to that turkey when left overnight in a refrigerator. The big challenge is how to prepare leftover turkey so it does not look or taste like turkey.

Thanksgiving is a marvelous time for family and friends to get together to celebrate the goodness of the Lord. Each family has its own special tradition that seems to bring it together. This year, especially, we have so much to be thankful.

For some it starts with a Thanksgiving Eve service. Gathering as a congregation to express to God thanks for another year of bounty and blessing is important for Christians.

Personally, I like a Thanksgiving eve service over a Thanksgiving morning service. In the evening service, you do not have to rush through the celebration to get home in time for the big feast. Giving thanks to God should be a leisurely thing, not something rushed through while thinking of something else.

At Thanksgiving, we should bring a bouquet of blessing that fills the room with a sweet fragrance of praise that lingers all year long.

Some of the best and most fragrant bouquets are the small ones. Remembering the big blessings is easy. The smaller blessings are much harder to keep in mind. Some of them we even take for granted.

This Thanksgiving I am going to make a point to look over some blessing I have been overlooking. It is those small blessing that truly sustains us throughout the year.

The Bible reminds us why we are to give thanks, not only at Thanksgiving time, but also all year long. “But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 15:57-58 KJV).

There is so much to thank God for; one day is not near enough. Let us thank God every day for His goodness. Even for leftover blessings.

Ther is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, PO Box 831313, Ocala, FL 34483. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.

 

 

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Visiting my family is a relative experience

By Rev. James L. Snyder

I was reminded recently that the only thing growing in my family tree are fruits and nuts. Personally, I am not sure if I am a fruit or a nut. Just do not ask my wife.

I had been away for so long I had forgotten many things about my family. My recent visit served as a refresher course reminding me why I had moved away in the first place. Memory sometimes pays little tricks causing us to remember the “good old days” and forgetting that sprinkled in among the good are ample portions of what I call good-challenged moments and characters.

I cannot speak about anybody else’s family; my family seems to run the gamut between good and bad. I certainly have some wonderful relatives but then, I also have those who are on the other side of that description. Overall, they serve to make my family what it is today.

I enjoyed visiting with some of my relatives I had not seen for years. In fact, I could not remember the last time I had seen some of them. For the most part, it was a wonderful time of family reunion.

I had really forgotten about good old Aunt Bessie. She has always been one of my favorite aunts. Nobody knows how old she really is, and she ain’t telling. Conferring with some of my older relatives none could remember a time when good old Aunt Bessie was not around. Some of us have guessed her age and we figure she is probably our oldest living relative.

One of the oddities about good old Aunt Bessie has to do with her physical appearance. As far as anybody could remember, she was always consumed with her looks. Not just her clothing but her face as well. The one thing that was anathema to her was a wrinkle. She has what we all said behind her back, a wrinkle-phobia. If I had the money she spent on wrinkle creams I could retire and live a life of luxury.

I do remember a time (and I had forgotten it until now and I just hoped she did) when I was not Aunt Bessie’s favorite nephew. It was years ago and I had not seen her for a while and when I did see her, I said, half jokingly, “Is that a new wrinkle, Aunt Bessie?”

You would have thought I had shot her only child. She shrieked and then went to the bathroom to examine her face. She was so irate with me that she did not speak to me for over a year. Of course, looking back, there was no downside to that. I was tempted to remind her of that incident, but I remembered the old hymn, “Yield not to temptation, for yielding is sin.”

Then there was Uncle Harold. I had not seen him for I cannot remember how long. When I saw him, I noticed he had not changed. I think he was wearing the same suspenders he wore the last time I saw him. His suspenders were a fashion statement, according to him, but nobody knew exactly what they were saying.

The great thing about Uncle Howard was his stories. He had a repertoire of stories that he repeated ad nauseam. Behind his back we often said, “Uncle Howard will tell no stories he hasn’t told a thousand times before.” Probably the most amusing thing about his stories was the fact that he often confused the punchline of one-story with the punchline of another story. None of his punchlines ever went with the story. That made them even funnier. We laughed, he thought we were laughing at his story, we were really laughing at him.

Just before I was ready to leave, who should come in but dear old Aunt Sylvia. As soon as I saw her, I smiled. Not only was I glad to see her, but I remembered her. If anybody was the cat’s meow, it was Aunt Sylvia.

She loved to go out to eat, particularly with a group. I thought of the last time we all went out to eat together and Aunt Sylvia was with us. One of her peculiarities was along the line of tipping the waitress. She was the self-appointed guru of making sure the waitress got a good tip. When everybody finished eating and the bill had come, Aunt Sylvia would take charge.

She would collect money from each person for the tip. If you did not give enough, she made you dig into your pocket again until you came up with an amount she was happy with to give to the waitress. With appropriate pomp and circumstance, she would call the waitress over to our table and present her with the tip of the evening.

As I was flying home, a thought tugged at my mind; if the world is made up of such people like my relatives, what chance does the world really have?

The world, as God has designed it, is made up of all kinds of people that He loves with an everlasting love. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16 KJV).

Thinking of my family on the plane coming home I thought, why am I the only sane person in my family? Then another thought emerged. Or, am I?

The Rev. James L. Snyder is pastor of the Family of God Fellowship, PO Box 831313, Ocala, FL 34483. He lives with his wife, Martha, in Silver Springs Shores. Call him at 352-687-4240 or e-mail jamessnyder2@att.net. The church web site is www.whatafellowship.com.

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I don’t mind flying it’s airports I can’t stand

By Rev. James L. Snyder

Recently, I needed to make a trip to visit some relatives. These days, the way the economy and gas prices are it turns out to be cheaper to fly. Even though, airlines no longer serve the delicious food of which they became famous.

Several aspects about airplanes that give me cause for alarm. The person who designed the modern-day airplane must have used one of the dwarfs for a model. I’m thinking, Grumpy. The seats, for example, are not built for the average posterior. I know I need to go on a diet but my airplane seat does not have to remind me of that auspicious fact.

The restrooms do not have any room whatsoever to rest in them. The last one I was in I had to step outside in order to change my mind. What were they thinking when they designed and built these restrooms?

Personally, I think it is a conspiracy on the part of the entire airline industry to harass those of us who are diminutive challenged.

However, I can live with some of these inconveniences. I do not really mind flying it is the airports that I cannot stand.

If there were some way to fly the friendly skies and eliminate airports I would be a happy flyer.

It has been a while since I flew the friendly skies and so I had forgotten some of the airport rigmarole that paying customers must go through. I am surprised with all of the fees associated with flying these days someone has not come up with the bright idea of charging a fee for everyone to be patted down.

In order to get to the airplane you have to go through a very sophisticated technological gateway. I had forgotten how thoroughly they check out their passengers.

Everything needs placed into a tray, which then goes through a scanner to make sure nobody is transporting a bomb in his or her baggage.

Then comes the dangerous part.

Everybody has to take off his or her shoes, which makes the whole airport smell as if some bomb did go off. Not only shoes, but also everybody has to empty their pockets and take off all jewelry.

Then, after putting all of my stuff in these trays, I was to walk through an archway to make sure I was not transporting a bomb in my underwear.

As I walked through the buzzer went off.

“Sir, do you have anything in your pockets?”

I looked and found a pen, so I had to take that out and put in a tray.

Again, I walked through and the buzzer went off again.

“Sir, is there anything else in your pockets?”

My wallet with credit cards and such things, which I did not realize was setting the buzzer off. I placed my wallet into the tray and then walked to the archway again.

The buzzer went off again.

At this point I was a little confused because I did not know what else I could take off. Therefore, I took off my sweater. Maybe something in the buttons that the archway did not like.

Then the man on the other side of the archway spied what he thought was the trouble and said, “Sir, you have to take off your suspenders.”

“Say what?” I said in alarm.

“You have to remove your suspenders.”

I looked at the man and then said, “You do know the purpose of suspenders, don’t you?”

With a distant disdain in his voice he simply said, “Sir, you will have to remove your suspenders.”

By the tone of his voice, I ascertained that he did not have the foggiest idea of the purpose of a gentleman’s suspenders. I wear suspenders because they are fashionable, comfortable and serve a vital purpose for me.

I looked at him and said, “Have you ever heard of wardrobe malfunction?”

“Sir,” he said in a practiced monotone, “you will have to remove your suspenders.”

I saw no way around this obstacle and if I wanted to get onto the airplane, I would need to go through this archway. Slowly I took off my suspenders and put them in a tray to send through the scanner.

The archway buzzer did not go off this time, which was a relief to me, but once I was through the archway things happened. As I reached for the tray on the conveyor, I suddenly felt a gentle breeze, heard several shrieks behind me and felt something grab my ankles.

Wardrobe malfunction!

Sure, you can grab your trousers and pulled them up but you still have to live with the fact that you actually mooned potential fellow passengers on the airplane.

I am not sure which is worse. A bomb in your underwear, or, your underwear on display.

After adjusting everything and picking up my briefcase, I noticed several people pointing in my direction and laughing. Believe me, a wardrobe malfunction is not anything to laugh at unless of course it happens to someone else.

Sitting in the airplane waiting to take off a verse of Scripture dominated my thinking.

“These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world,” (John 16:33 KJV).

Whatever our tribulations might be, we can rest unabashed in the finished work of Jesus Christ.

 

 

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Mr. Politician, leave the middle-class alone

I’m not quite sure where the term “middle class” came from. I can never remember using it in any conversations I’ve ever had. In fact, the only time I hear the phrase is when some politician is speaking. From the context of the speech, I am quite sure he or she does not know what the phrase means, either.

My wife and I were talking about that just this past week. The thing we could not quite figure out is, are we middle-class? And if we are middle-class, what in the world does it mean? And, when do we graduate?

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Money, sex, politics and the American way

I cannot speak for anybody else; in fact, I have a hard enough time speaking for myself. Thankfully, I have those who have volunteered to speak on my behalf on a variety of issues. This has been good, relieving me the necessity of expressing myself. But, as people keep telling me, all things must end sometime.

As far as I am concerned, I have had enough. There is absolutely no use in trying to talk me out of it; I have had enough.

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The secret to a great marriage

This week the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and Yours Truly, celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary. This week as I pondered our life together it occurred to me, I might be taking some things for granted. Doing this, especially when it involves another person, is dangerous. I decided to take a little stock of myself and my relationship with the Mistress of the parsonage. What makes our marriage so great?

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The absurdity of to pray or not to pray

Occasionally, I hear about somebody objecting to prayer. Usually, it is somebody who has no idea what he or she is talking about. It must be a slow news day when the media highlights this as one of their news stories. I guess nothing else is going on in the world demanding our attention. However, when someone suggests praying in public somebody always rises in open protest. After all, everybody knows how dangerous prayer really is.

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Please, don’t call me ‘Sweetie’

The past several weeks, I have been trying to keep my curmudgeon levels to a minimum. It has been a struggle but I am happy to report I have been making fantastic progress. That is until the other day.

The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and our daughters had planned to spend the day on the town and then have lunch together. That left Yours Truly to fend for myself for the entire day, including lunch. I don’t mind this because it is good for the girls to have a day out by themselves. Not only that, but it gives me a break, if you know what I mean.

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Okay, enough with the cold, already

Some things in life are so enjoyable you hope they linger forever. Other things, you hope disappear faster than they came, like relatives during the holidays. Why is it they come in faster than they go out?

Don’t get me wrong. I love my relatives. But I love them more from a distance, which is why we have Facebook. On Facebook, you can get off whenever you want to. However, when the relative is sitting in your living room on your favorite easy chair there is no place for you to go.

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