In advance of the usual hijinx in some place on Holy Thursday, I want to revive a couple parody songs from a post last year:
The official WDTPRS parodohymnologist, Tim Ferguson, penned this:
A Holy Thursday Reflection on “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree” by Lew Brown, Sam Stept and Charles Tobias.
(Imagine Ray Eberle and the Modernaires singing this…)
Don’t go washing those women’s feet; the Latin is plain to me:
“selecti” should be “viri.” The rubrics are clear you see. No, no, no,
Don’t go washing those women’s feet at Thursday night’s liturgy,
Thus says the Pope of Rome.
Don’t go altering rubrics now, no matter who you may be,
Or where you got your degree in Scripture and Liturgy. No, no, no,
Don’t go altering rubrics now, this calls for humility:
You’re not the Pope of Rome.
I just got word that Ranjith has heard,
‘n put the Vicar in a jam,
Seems some priest here, washing feet last year,
Scrubbed a nylon-covered gam.
So, don’t go washing those women’s feet at Thursday night’s liturgy,
Or feel the wrath of Rome.
There… isn’t that better?
Has anyone else noticed that it seems only serious, traditionally minded Catholics tend to have a good sense of humor? I guess this comes from the fact that when you are right you can’t be wrong. That gives us the security to be funny.
But, getting back to business… I am feeling that old anger rise up inside again, …. and I need an outlet.
And what better outlet than …. another song!
From the Musical: Fiddler on the Apse
(a parody of Matchmaker, Matchmaker, from Fiddler on the Roof)
Yenta: Modernist Liturgist,
Please wash my feet,
I’m not wearing sox,
And I’ll be discrete,
Inculturate the American Way,
And please wash my feet Thursday….
Fr. Lovebeads: I am the Liturgist,
Take off your shoes!
Women and men,
There’s no need to choose!
“Viri selecti,” is just not too clear,
I’ll wash all your feet this year…
Fr. Lovebeads: For me now,
It signals inclusion!
Yenta: For me now,
It’s my chance to shine!
Congregation: For us, well,
It doesn’t matter,
As long as we’re leaving for home by nine!
Congregaton: Modernist Liturgist,
Give us a break!
Follow the red words
For pity’s sake.
Mass after Mass we feel under attack,
Please, just say the words in black!