The Good Friday Service was solemn,
Ever’one quiet as a mouse.
The Deacon was lightin’ the Easter Candle
When an altar boy did shout:
“THERE’S A FLY IN THE HOLY OIL!”
OH MY! This will never do
We can’t have imperfect ointment
To touch foreheads in the pews.
The Deacon wrung his hands,
And the ladies let out a gasp.
The old men shook their heads
And the children held back a laugh.
The Deacon asked to see
The liturgical committee;
He said that oil was blessed
By the Bishop last Sundee.
We can’t go on with the service
With a fly in the ointment oil,
It’d be purt near sacrilegious
And maybe cause a great turmoil.
The committee was plumb stumped,
Except Dakota Slim.
He’d lived out in the sage and prairie
And was full of common sense.
He said, “whyn’t just reach in
And grab that little fly?”
The Deacon back reared on his heels
At this afront to religious style.
He said we can’t do that,
B’cause these oils is already blessed;
If we go fishin’ ’round in there
It’ll lose its holiness.
Slim said, “I agree that we
Must respect religious tradition,
But fishin’ a fly out of the ointment
Won’t offend God in His position.”
Seems to me God wants us all
To be a community of good neighbors.
He looks at men’s hearts and actions
And that’s what our God savors.
The Pharisees and Sanhedrin
Were concerned with outward actions,
But God was concerned with men’s hearts
While they looked for outward infractions.
And we know that Christ’s Great Command
“Love your neighbor as yourself” is true;
He even made much greater
When he said, “Love your neighbor as I have loved you”!
So, there was an exhale of relieved breath
As Slim’s soliloquy sunk in.
The Deacon said, “you’re right!
A fly in the ointment ain’t no sin.”
So Good Friday service commenced
With Joy and lifted hearts
All because a fly
Found his way into a mason jar.