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by Prof. Hardy Parkerson
Dec 8, 2013
Free Sermon from Rev. Parkerson
I overslept this morning and did not make church. I am not so sure they even had it, for when I went to go at 6:00 o'clock this evening, the church was locked and dark. Perhaps services had been cancelled until a later date due to the church's doing repairs following Hurricane RITA. So, just wanting to ventu...See MoreFree Sermon from Rev. Parkerson
I overslept this morning and did not make church. I am not so sure they even had it, for when I went to go at 6:00 o'clock this evening, the church was locked and dark. Perhaps services had been cancelled until a later date due to the church's doing repairs following Hurricane RITA. So, just wanting to venture out and see something new and different, I thought
that I would go on to First Baptist and visit their evening service. I had a $100.00, that I planned to give, so I thought that any Protestant church might welcome me as a visitor if I would give them my $100.00. But when I arrived at First Baptist at upwards of 6:00 o'clock P.M., there was not a car anywhere near the church, nor was a light on; so it was apparent no evening service was planned either at 6:00 o'clock or 7:00 o'clock; so I thought that I would drive to First United Methodist with the same thought in mind. Well, when I arrived there just a few minutes before 6:00 o'clock P.M., it was obvious that things were the same at First United Methodist as I had found them at First Baptist. But not to be outdone, I resolved to go, even uninvited, to evening services at Trinity Baptist Church; but knowing I might drive all the way out there to find things were the same, I decided to drive by Glad Tidings Church on the way to Trinity Baptist
and see what might be going on there. Well, when I arrived at Glad Tidings
Church at about one minute after 6:00 o'clock P.M., I found more cars outside on the parking lots than I had seen at any church in many a moon, so I decided to go inside: a first for me. At the door to welcome me was an old friend from many years back, a Brother Carnahan, whose first name I have forgotten. He told me indeed I could come inside. Once inside, I found the church less than half full, but with about three hundred to three-hundred fifty people, one of whom I recognized as a Reverend Billy Cornwell, whom I had known from years back as a great preacher and as a great fund-raiser, but who had left the ministry and gone into the used car business, for the reason, as he told it to me, that he could not stand the pressure of the ministry. When he told me that, I challenged him as to
just how much pressure the ministry could be. He then informed me that
every decision he had to make as a preacher had eternal consequences,
since it had to do with a person's eternal destiny and that was just too much pressure for him; so he quit being a preacher. I thought at the time that at least he was being honest; and I could respect his feelings and his decision. I personally know from experience that he was a great preacher, a great religious orator; and I also knew from the experience of having watched him raise funds that he was a master at fund-raising. Well, once inside, I was very impressed with the appearance and size of the sanctuary and the musicians and singers down front who were leading in
some so-called "praise" music and songs, with the accompaniment of an
orchestra, including several brass instruments, including one or more
trombones, and with at least one guitarist playing what appeared to be an
electrified guitar. The words to the songs they were singing and leading
the congregation in were displayed on at least two large screens high up and one on each side of the sanctuary so that the people could sing along with the sextet (6 singers) and the orchestra. There were three large tri-pod mounted television cameras recording the services taking place on the stage. (It would be interesting to know what those video recordings will be used for.) The singing was pretty much non-stop for at least thirty minutes and was just a little too much for my peculiar preferences; but the other people there seemed to be used to it and were very much a part of it. Of course, I have always said if I liked something in a church, it must not be the right thing; just by the simple fact that I liked it. I always felt that every good sermon I ever heard I did not like, for it told me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear; and I did not like that. That is why I always liked the Methodist church, for they always made me feel good with their sermons; but it was always those sermons that made me feel bad--the kind I did not want to hear--that I needed to hear. Oh, well! I am a religious person, but I really never did understand religion. Frankly, I think that if you would get the official "doctrine" and the clergy out of the way, there is not a dime's worth of difference in any of these Christian religions, including the Catholic Church; each one is just a bunch of honest people seeking God in the only way they know how to do so. I am not a Catholic, but I once had a Catholic priest tell me, "Son, if you believe in what you tell me you believe in, and if you have done what you tell me you have done, then you are indeed a Catholic, according to Vatican II." Well, I hope so! Be that as it may, when someone asks me if I an a Catholic, I tell them, "No. but I am a better one than most of them I know." (No extra charge for that.) Well, after about thirty or forty minutes of preaching and singing, some man, apparently the preacher, quit singing with the singing group, which, as I remember it, were all dressed in black-- he was not--and he began to just talk extemporaneously and non-stop without notes nor script, without introduction and without stating in advance what he intended to speak on nor the purpose of his talk, as I was taught to do in speech classes in college; and he talked on and on and on and on and on; and near the end, at least it seemed to me, ad nauseam; but I agreed with almost everything he said; at least I did not disagree with it. His long talk was followed by what seemed like a longer prayer that he made, and it also went on and on and on and on; but one thing that he said in his prayer that really impressed me was that he asked God to let us (the congregation, and I suppose church too) in the coming year perform "Creative Miracles". That really impressed me! I really liked that term "Creative Miracles". Sometimes you just have to create some things yourself; or, if you want to put it in a religious context, you just have to let God create things through you; or, if you want to do it yourself, you have to at least ask God to help you create things. Anyway, like that passage in the Bible where it talks about "thinking on these things...whatsoever things are...think on these things," I said a prayer that I might make that the motto I live by: Whatsoever things are true, of good report, beautiful, lovely, etc., think on these things. And my prayer in my own way was that "things that are higher, things that are nobler," let these, Lord, allure my sight!
One thing I did learn is that that church is getting ready to start a ministry to the Spanish Community of Calcasieu Parish. Upon hearing this, I was startled and began to shake my head; for the way I looked at it, we should not even have a Spanish Community of Calcasieu Parish; but then I have a strange way of thinking. But I thought to myself: "Hey! If they are going to start a ministry to the Spanish speaking Community of Calcasieu Parish, they ought to also start one for the Cajun speaking population of Calcasieu Parish. There used to be one at First Assembly of God church in Lake Charles, back in the seventies, with a bunch of Catholic Cajuns who would come and sing songs of praise; and they had a little Cajun fellow who played a guitar and sang in Cajun French. It was quite a draw, and the time came when even a member of that church of many years had to arrive early to find a seat in the sanctuary. And the sanctuary was filled with what I estimated to be at least seventy-five percent Catholics, many of whom ended their prayers by making the Sign of the Cross. As I say, when you get the clergy and doctrine out of the way, there is not a dime's worth of difference in any of the Christian churches, Protestant nor Catholic; it is, as I say, all just a bunch of honest people seeking God in the only way they know how. Well, there is more to it all than this, but this is something to think about.
Oh, yes! Even though the idea of starting a Ministry to the Spanish speaking Community of Calcasieu parish startled me, I also wondered just how politically correct it is to do so. Why not such a Ministry to the Black Community of Calcasieu Parish? Or to the Islamic Community of Calcasieu Parish? I did see about ten Blacks there, who arrived late and who sat over on the right-hand side of the sanctuary down near the front. It somewhat reminded me of how things were when I was a kid at the football games and such. The Blacks were allowed to attend, although they had to sit in specially designated places; they could not mix with the Whites. (Of course, I am sure that that is where these late- arriving Blacks chose to sit, not where they were told to sit.) At Lake Charles High School Stadium (Killen Field), they even had their own little set of bleachers down about the ten yard line at the south-west corner of the stadium where they all had to sit. They could not mix in with the Whites at the ballgames. That was as late as the early 1960's. That is the way I remember it. My, how things have changed! (I could say more on all of that, but I will keep it to myself.)
Well, having thought the Glad Tidings local Mexican Ministry over--they call it "Spanish Ministry"-- I thought that if churches were not going to mix all the races and nationalities together, and if they were going to start a "Spanish Ministry", then they ought to start a Cajun Ministry too and preach in Cajun French and sing in Cajun French and pray in Cajun French. I recommend it as a way of filling those Protestant churches up once again, like was done in the seventies. It is pretty obvious to me that Blacks and Whites, as a general rule, don't prefer to worship together; and, thus, the existence of both large Black Protestant churches and large White Protestant churches. And I do know that they have a very large Black Catholic church on Opelousas Street, and maybe even one just north of Broad Street in Lake Charles, called Sacred Heart. Of course, there is a lot I don't know about a lot of things, and this could be one of them.
Be all that as it may, after having thought this whole matter over about the proposed Glad Tidings Church Ministry to the Spanish Speaking Community of Calcasieu Parish, I had second thoughts and made out my $100.00, check to Glad Tidings and put in the lower left-hand corner of the check "for Spanish Ministry." (Now, let me make this clear: nothing said about the $100.00 contribution is intended to brag about it, nor to attempt to put a feather in my own cap. Please believe me!)
Why do I post all of this stuff here? Well, I must have a need to externalize how I feel at times; and what better forum than this? Only time will tell. I'll assure you, I have nothing but good intentions in posting this. I just like to speak my piece. That gets me in trouble a lot. My wife tells me I should just zip my mouth shut and bite my tongue and let lots of time pass, until somebody asks me my opinion. I will have to agree that nobody has asked me for my opinion on any of these matters discussed above. Oh, well! As we adopted Cajuns say, "C'est la vie! Chacune a son gout!"
Merry Christmas and Happy New Years to all! No charge for the sermon!
Sincerely,
Rev. Hardy Parkerson
Lake Charles
P.S.: Maybe there's hope for even me. HMP
by Prof. Hardy Parkerson
Dec 8, 2013
"It is fitting, perhaps to quote President Kennedy's favorite poem:
"Young man, I have seen you strolling In the stillness of the Park. Day after day, hand in pocket Of the slim, familiar jacket, Twilight into dark.
"I have come to know your whistle, Know your collie, know your cap; Have see the straggling sunlight hold you, Watch...See More"It is fitting, perhaps to quote President Kennedy's favorite poem:
"Young man, I have seen you strolling In the stillness of the Park. Day after day, hand in pocket Of the slim, familiar jacket, Twilight into dark.
"I have come to know your whistle, Know your collie, know your cap; Have see the straggling sunlight hold you, Watched the emerald grass enfold you, In its loving lap.
"With your lichened switch I see you Flick the mushrooms in your way. And I know what you are thinking. Would that, through the soft mist falling, You could hear a stranger calling: ‘Stay!’."
(If anyone knows the name of the poet, please notify Hardy Parkerson (337) 478-4370 or at [email removed]!)
Interpretation of this Poem:
"This poem, like all good poems, tells many stories. Volumes of meaningful phrases could be written on the stories of this verse. "The two most outstanding illustrations are the personalities of the observed and the observer. The poem opens the window into the character of these two.
"Another vision which unfolds are the wonderful pictures of nature, adjectival without border.
"Most value, beyond a doubt, will be found in the analysis, and here vanity and frustration must take over; for the timid soul of the analyzer sees no difference in the scene from any we may pause to observe in this busy world." -J.D. Parkerson
Another Interpretation of this Poem
"In this poem I envison a young man who walks with his collie every evening through a park like Central Park in New York, perhaps overlooked by a large apartment building; and as he strolls through the park in the late afternoon, just before dark, an old person who lives in one of the high-rise apartments looks out of his or her window and watches him. The elderly person has become accustomed to seeing the boy and his dog each evening, and the old person looks forward to seeing him each day and hates when the boy and his dog pass out of sight or when the darkness of evening falls." -Hardy Parkerson
by Prof. Hardy Parkerson, J.D.
Dec 7, 2013
JOHNNY GRAYDON spent eight months in Calcasieu Parish Jail awaiting trial for lack of $75.00 with which to make a bail- bond, and then the charge that he was held on was dismissed. Some "justice" system we have!
And that's in Calcasieu Parish.
by Hardy Parkerson, Prof.
Dec 4, 2013
Searching for the great Dr. Bates (have forgotten his first name), formerly a professor at McNeese State University in Lake Charles. If anybody knows where he is now, please, if you will be so kind, e-mail me that information or post it here. Thanks!
Sincerely,
Hardy Parkerson, J.D. Lake Charles, LA [email removed]
by Prof. H. Parkerson
Nov 30, 2013
1. Harriet Tubman was an African-American abolitionist, humanitarian, and Union spy during the American Civil War. Wikipedia 2. 3. Born: 1820, Dorchester County, MD 4. Died: March 10, 1913, Auburn, NY 5. Full name: Araminta Harriet Ross 6. Nicknames: Minty, Moses 7. Children: Gertie Davies 8. Spouse: Nelson Davies (m. 1869–1888), John Tubman (m....See More1. Harriet Tubman was an African-American abolitionist, humanitarian, and Union spy during the American Civil War. Wikipedia 2. 3. Born: 1820, Dorchester County, MD 4. Died: March 10, 1913, Auburn, NY 5. Full name: Araminta Harriet Ross 6. Nicknames: Minty, Moses 7. Children: Gertie Davies 8. Spouse: Nelson Davies (m. 1869–1888), John Tubman (m. 1844–1851) See Wikipedia - Harriet Tubman
How does Harriet Tubman represent 19th century american history?
by Prof. Parkerson
yesterday, 2013
True Penance -by Hardy Parkerson copyright-all rights reserved
Latin is a language As hard as it can be. You can speak it to your neighbor, You can speak it to a tree.
Neither will understand you; No, not in the least; That is, unless your neighbor Is a Roman Catholic priest.
Then you can tell him, "MEA CULPA, MEA CULPA, ...See MoreTrue Penance -by Hardy Parkerson copyright-all rights reserved
Latin is a language As hard as it can be. You can speak it to your neighbor, You can speak it to a tree.
Neither will understand you; No, not in the least; That is, unless your neighbor Is a Roman Catholic priest.
Then you can tell him, "MEA CULPA, MEA CULPA, MEA MAXIMA CULPA!”: That Latin confessional sen'ence; And he'll tell you, "Go and sin no more, And read some Latin as your penance!"
(Humor intended!)
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