The Play is the Thing September 13, 2009 by Pullen Memorial Baptist Church

Text: Zechariah 8:4-6

The Play Is the Thing

For one hundred and twenty-five years,

Pullen’s been a church unlike her peers,

A place where doctrine comes second to people,

A church that doesn’t crave a big, white steeple.

Yes, we’ve always been a pretty serious bunch,

Saving the world, even if it meant skipping lunch,

Justice and peace don’t just drop down from heaven,

Sometimes the quest for them means you work way past seven.

But though the world views only our liberal exterior,

And often wishes it could kick us in our posterior,

We who are here and sit in the pew,

Hold a secret known only to a few.

We are a fun church, not just dead serious,

Silliness often breaks in, making us delirious,

Where else can you go in the world’s vast expanse,

And find a Baptist church hosting a dance?

Yes, play is the thing that is sweet and sublime,

Laughter and giggles, the language of the divine.

We tease and we joke as we feel led,

All punch lines ending with Jim Epps’ bald head.

There’s foyers, retreats, and lock-ins galore,

Pullen Home Companion is never a bore,

Why, we’re so wacky and with a loose screw,

We decided one pastor wasn’t enough, we needed two.

In the old days Dick Volk chaperoned students so able,

While in truth just desiring to whip them at the ping pong table.

Mary Ann Brittain had her clusters, where good friends could meet,

Making any excuse they could to get together and eat.

By now my point is bordering on tedious,

This poem is dragging on; it’s not the speediest.

So let me wrap up and put one more thing upon ya,

Cause I know it’s time and no one likes cold lasagna.

Pullen is old but she’s not getting cranky,

Roger and Mary Ruth even did a skit on hanky panky.

We’re a fun church, free, and loose as a goose,

Cause Gospel living doesn’t have to feel like drinking prune juice.

Yes, play is the thing that is sweet and sublime,

Laughter and giggles, the language of the divine.

We tease and we joke until we’re unsteady,

The loudest cackle coming from that pastor named Petty.