To the tune of "Rising early"
from The Gondoliers, Act 2 Scene 1.
Rising early in the morning we put on our black attire.
Then we eat a bowl of gruel just to stoke the inner fire.
Then we start without delay on the duties of the day.
First, we read through all the batches
of Diocesan dispatches
which seem to be in piles across the floor,
but it's such a rare occurrence
to find anything of substance
that most of the instructions we ignore.
Then we check the Diary pages for the day,
just to see whose turn it is to kneel and pray
as we read the Morning Office while we wait
for the visitor, who's nearly always late.
After that we generally
try to organise a Rally,
just to show the local people that the Church is still alive;
write some letters complement'ry
'bout that TV document'ry
that showed the various ways by which the clergy can survive.
Then in view of cravings inner
we go down and cook the dinner
then we polish up the chalice and the paten and the plate;
spend an hour or two creating
several sermons that are stating
how the Church of England nowadays is something that we hate!
Oh, the Bishop may be sure
that the clergy of his cure
have a superficial knowledge as to how to celebrate,
but the privilege and pleasure
that we treasure beyond measure,
is to take the Mass and secretly to transubstantiate!
Oh, the Bishop may be sure
that the clergy of his cure
have a superficial knowledge as to how to celebrate,
but the privilege and pleasure
that we treasure beyond measure,
is to take the Mass and secretly to transubstantiate!
It is always whilst we're lunching
and our bangers we are munching
that the telephone rings out from down the hall.
So we swallow our last portion
and we answer it with caution
just in case it's the Archbishop with a call.
But it's usually a couple with their Banns,
who want to meet and chat about their plans,
and although they've never been inside the door,
want a proper churchy wedding, that's for sure!
And they wonder if it's right
for the bride to be in white
since they'd like their three young children to be christened the same day!
And we make just one condition
to their conjugal coition,
that it's not the local milkman who is giving her away!
So we fix the time and date and
tell them not to be too late and
then we say goodbye and go back to our frozen little meal;
and we've taken our first spoonful.
and are humming something tuneful,
when the telephone decides it's time to give another squeal!
Oh, the laity may moan
that we're never by the 'phone,
but we always get the message and they rarely have to wait,
and the privilege and pleasure
that we treasure beyond measure
is to tell a couple's children that they're now legitimate!
Oh, the laity may moan
that we're never by the 'phone,
but we always get the message and they rarely have to wait,
and the privilege and pleasure
that we treasure beyond measure
is to tell a couple's children that they're now legitimate!
When the services are finished and the final hymn is sung,
we retire to the vestry where our jacket has been hung,
and we lock the cupboard doors, leaving coffee to the bores.
When your day-off you are taking
and you're out the door and making
your swift way along the drive into the car;
you can "bet your bottom dollar"
that despite your lack of collar,
that some passer-by will stop you getting far.
And it's always something trivial that could wait,
but you stand and suffer, smiling, at the gate,
whilst inside you wish that they would just drop dead,
or develop lockjaw instantly instead.
And you listen to their chatter,
and their gossip and their natter,
whilst in your mind you see them
frying in the fires of hell;
and you wish that you were holy,
and could pray for them quite slowly,
but deep inside you don't care
if they're sick or if they're well!
Then they ask about next Sunday
even though it's only Monday,
and you snap and tell them bluntly
that you really have to go!
And you turn around with passion
even though it's quite irration-
-al to treat the bastards rudely
for the Bishop soon will know!
Oh the pleasures of the post,
they can oft outweigh the most
depressing congregations that can occupy the pew,
but there's always that one person
that you'd like to put a curse on,
who could drive a holy saint to look for parishes anew.
Oh the pleasures of the post,
they can oft outweigh the most
depressing congregations that can occupy the pew,
but there's always that one person
that you'd like to put a curse on,
who could drive a holy saint to look for parishes anew.
After Mass and making merry
with a wafer and some sherry
if we've nothing in particular to do;
we may make a visitation
to some shrine of adoration
which we hope the Rural Dean won't misconstrue.
Then we help a passing trav'ler at our door,
with a "Cup-a-Soup", a sandwich, nothing more,
or we dress and toddle off in semi-state
to a funeral, a Festival or Fete.
Then as time is really fleeting
we go out to chair a meeting
'bout the Quota that's demanded and the money that we owe,
whilst the Warden we elected
tells the meeting he's defected,
to the Pentecostal church, and is surprised to find we know!
The Lay-chair's quite unstable,
signs the Minutes, if he's able,
then we close and serve the coffee and at half-past nine or ten,
with a headache symptomatic
we retire to our attic
with the knowledge that tomorrow we must do it all again!
Oh, the PCC may say
that this dog has had its day,
but through all the lengthy meetings we just sit and meditate;
and the privilege and pleasure
that we treasure beyond measure
is to build a Campanile and the costs miscalculate!
© Pharisaios Publications 2001, 2003
