Operation: Jersey Sparkler

Remember, you and I may live in a state where we're free to celebrate the Fourth of July as we see fit, but there are many states in the Union today (for which New Jersey seems determined to be the poster child, by the way) where this privilege has long since ceased to exist and where the Fourth of July (the historic day for us Americans to celebrate our freedom) has become (oh, the irony of it all!) the favorite day of the year for local governments to flex their choice-limiting muscles in the day to day affairs of its citizenry.






And so one goes out back to light a Roman candle, right?





And the State is like, "Step away from the incendiary."





And you're like, "But I'm just celebrating my freedom here!"





And the State is like, "We're celebrating your freedom FOR YOU tonight at 9:00 with fireworks down at the local park."





And you're like, "But I'd rather do it myself."





And the State is like, "If we let you do that, the next thing we know, you'll be wanting to pump your own gas! Now, for the last time: Step away from the fireworks, or you will be free to come back to headquarters with us!"





Organist Ann, strike up the first hymn, would you? I know we're getting a little ahead of ourselves here relative to the schedule in the bulletin, but I'm suddenly in very real danger of getting on my high horse and pulling a few indignant equine wheelies! (As in, whoa, boy. Or even, Hi-yo, Silver: Away with Big Mother government!)





Hymn number 128, I believe it is:





"When Sparklers First in David's Ancient City Shone" -- or something like that.





Here we go, congregation: And a-one, and a-two:





"When Sparklers First


in David's Ancient City Shone


Safe in the chaperoning hand


The children's eyes were filled with glee


and Freedom's bell rang in the land.





But then the Tyrants took the reins --"





Hold everything: Who's that man making a beeline for the back door (back there in the narthex or whatever)?





What's that, sir? You yourself come from New Jersey, and you're in favor of the sparkler ban?





Oh, why didn't you SAY so? We'll pray for you during the upcoming "Cares and Concerns" section of our service.











Easy on the door! Jeez Louise! That's Tiffany stained glass back there!





Sorry about that, Ann. Now, where were we --





Let's see: "Safe in the chaperoning hands...." No, no, we sang that bit....





Oh, yes: "But then the tyrants took the reins --





"And a-one, and a-two --





"Oh, never mind: That angry fussbudget has put me right off singing this morning! Humph!





In fact, you know what? We interrupt this church service for a special prayer:





Dear Number One (Top Dog, Big Cheese, Head Honcho, the Hostest with the Mostest, whatever): First of all, "word up" as it were for the great summer day. You've outdone yourself yet again, God. I think I'll go hiking on Skyline Drive with Pat, in fact, this very afternoon. I'm only hoping that the lodge will still be open, and that they'll still be serving that great Blackberry Ice Cream Pie for dessert.





But now, oh! (Come on, congregation: repeat after me: "OH!" That's it. I'm not up here for my health, you know!)





OH! Bless those who think rightly on big issues -- such as fireworks and the freedom to launch them -- and let them be used (the fireworks, I mean) by thy servants who wouldeth do so with reasonableth care -- because, um, you see -- that is to say...





Oh, rats!





Sorry, God, but to tell you the truth, that guy who just stormed out of the church has really thrown me off my game this morning, so to speak.





But don't be wroth with him on my account -- in fact, you can completely forgive him as far as I'm concerned (assuming, as seems to be the case, that his door-slamming hasn't in any way compromised the physical integrity of the truly expensive stained-glass windows that I mentioned above). Only, when you get a chance, DO touch his heart so that he can see that liberty means nothing when it is enforced, as it were, by a bunch of silly bureaucratic edicts from Trenton: enforced, that is, by the micromanagement of family life that he so obviously champions, based on his hysterical (and I dare say hypocritical) reaction to the lyrics of this morning's first hymn, namely hymn number 128, "When Sparklers First in David's Ancient City Shone."





And as always, forgive those who wrongly say that we are impious for praying to you in this seemingly light-hearted fashion, for we know, God (even if most others don't) that the true God has got to have a MAJOR sense of humor to have invented the world that we see before us today.





Still, there will always be big meanies in this life (oops, careful, Brian: you almost called them "dogmatic dunderheads!") who will call us "impious" for adopting this tone of ours when addressing your Mightiness, huh, God? So we therefore petition you to forgive them big-time for their inappropriately lousy opinion of us.





Of course, in the old days, my ancestors would have probably just told you to "smite" their enemies and get it over with, but fortunately the long line of Q family preachers has "chilled out" since then, i.e. since we first came over here on the Mayflower back in 1492 or whenever (speaking of which, you can still see our names on the wall at Ellis Island).






Great. I HATE this when I lose the thread of my prayer like this.





In short, God, please do as I've said above (unless, of course, there's a good reason not to that only you, being God, would know).





Amen.







Right. The Children's Sermon.





(Quietly! Quietly! Jeepers, I haven't even invited the kids up yet, and they're already doing the 100-yard dash up here!)





Okay, now, quiet! Quiet! Shush!





Now then, kids, what do I have in my hand? Anyone?





Yes, that's right, it's a sparkler.





And when I light it and move it around, what happens?





Yes, Sally? That's right, it sparkles and shines, doesn't it?





My goodness, just look at that. (Ushers, get ready with that prearranged pail of water....)





But! Who should be in charge of lighting these and supervising their use?





Yes, Joey?





No, Joey, the State of New Jersey should definitely NOT be in charge, neither of lighting them nor of supervising their use. (Wise guy... mumble mumble...)





Sue? Who should be in charge?





Parents, that's right!





So you see, kids, I don't want your little fingers to get a boo-boo, do I? Of course not! It's just that I want you to live in a free world, understood?





Mind you -- (Joey, are you listening?!)





Mind you, you're most decidedly NOT free to disobey your parents.





But your parents should be free to help you safely use fireworks if they so choose. That's all I am saying.





Okay, now, scoot. Sister Sarah will take you outside today for a little fresh air. (Sorry, but we can't have you running around in a social hall full of fireworks, can we?)





How's that, Joey? No, I'm not going to hand out any sparklers to you kids as you're filing out. (Nice try.) Remember, I want your parents to be free to HELP you use these things if they would like to do so. That doesn't mean that I --





Right, like they're even listening to me any longer.





Can you imagine that Joey? I'm like: "Who should be in charge of lighting the sparklers?" and he's like, "The state of New Jersey."





I better watch out, he's going to be after my job in another 10 years.





Time to make with the cash money (ushers, that's your cue) as we sing hymn number 541, "The Fuse of Freedom, Newly Lit, in Tara's Sacred Halls."





And a-one, and a-two:





"The Fuse of Freedom, Newly Lit,

in Tara's sacred halls..."





Amen.





You may be seated.





Feel free to murmur for 10 to 20 seconds now as I get my note cards in order up here. (You guys always murmur anyway, no matter what I say, right? You're like: "Murmur murmur murmur..." Well, what can I say? Tell the truth and shame the devil, right, Sister Hattie? Brother John?)



Hey, wait a minute: Are you sleeping? Are YOU sleeping, Brother John, Brother John? (Well, somebody sound the matins, already: I mean, ding-dang- dong! Would ya's wake up already out there! Whoo-hoo!)





Ahem.









You may wish to take this opportunity to remind your neighbor to turn in their final sparkler donations after church. Remember, sparklers only. The Budget Committee simply couldn't come up with enough money to cover the cost of insuring a New Jersey-bound truck full of bottle rockets.





Let's see, now....





Well, I was going to preach about the need for local governments to back off with pesky Big Mother legislation regarding fireworks and their use on the 4th of July. But as I'm glancing over my note cards here, it seems that I've already covered all the main points during the previous parts of today's harangue.





Hmm, I'm tempted to let you guys out early today....





But as you go home today, I would urge you to reflect on the good luck that you have living in a free state such as this one.





And remember, there are some children in this country who may never see a sparkler up close without your help.





Speaking of which, the fireproof "protest truck" (as we call it) leaves at 1:00 p.m. on the dot, so get your sparklers to the social hall pronto!





And now Ann's going to take us out of here with the wonderfully appropriate "Musick for the Royal Fireworks" by George Frederic Handel.





Not so fast, everybody: Widows and deacons first: Widow Brimsley. Deacon Sam: After you!

Sparkler! Sparkler! burning bright,

In New Jersey late at night,

Who's the bureaucratic lout,

That would try to put you out?



What state senator benighted,

Doesn't want you being lighted?

What old bureaucrat in Trenton

Wants to make our parties Lenten

By denying us your sheen,

(for the holidays, I mean)



And if the cops enforce the law,

Who will wrench thee from my paw?

Who will steal the awestruck smile,

From the peepers of my child,

Ere with soft staccato sizzle

You yourself decide to fizzle?



Sparkler! Sparkler! burning bright,

In New Jersey late at night,

Who's the bureaucratic lout,

That would try to put you out?

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