Last Rites?

A. Unabashed Pacifist:

I’m gonna sing when the Spirit says “Peace Now!”

B. Unabashed Christian:

Holy One, Mother Goddess,

We carry many burdens, from the confusing array of decisions to the ethical dilemmas we face, from the physical and mental ailments that threaten our lives to the larger societal issues that create grave uncertainty for us.

You see and understand our burdens, for you too have been and are part of this life with us. You share the burdens with us, so much so that over time even those troubles become blessings. For you always look out for us.
Amen

C. Un-quoting Jesus:

“Three ball in the side pocket.”

[Three is supposed to be His number, but sorry, He never said this.]

D. Blog: Calling the Last Rites

A man is struck by a bus on a busy street in New York City. He lies dying on the sidewalk as a crowd of spectators gathers around. "A priest! Somebody get me a priest!" the man gasps.

A policeman checks the crowd but finds no priest, no minister, no clergy of God of any kind."A PRIEST, PLEASE!" the dying man says again.

Then out of the crowd steps a little old Jewish man of at least eighty years of age."Mr. Policeman," says the man, "I'm not a priest. I'm not even a Catholic. But for fifty years now I'm living behind St. Mary's Catholic Church on Third Avenue, and every night I'm listening to the Catholic litany. Maybe I can be of some comfort to this man."

The policeman agrees and brings the octogenarian over to the dying man. He kneels down, leans over the injured and says in a solemn voice: "B - 4. I - 19. N - 38. G - 54. O - 72."