Jesus Lives, Which Is To Say, Picnics

We begin this week with a reading from Psalm 23B: The Lord is my activities coordinator; I shall not want. He leadeth me to lie in green pastures, supplying checkerboard blanket, insect spray and styrofoam coolers. He rocketh me beside the still waters with cassette tape boom box. He leadeth me down clearly marked pathways to the gender appropriate latrine. Though I walk through the valley of clover, I fear no allergens, nor the evils of ivy, for thou hath armed me with witch hazel to ease itch and suffering. Thou preparest a picnic table before me in the presence of a mixed-race assemblage of shirtless Citizen Longhairs and their free-loving sister wives. Thou anointest my rib rack with oil, marinades and barbecuing sauces; my lemonade cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, or until an afternoon cloudburst sends us on our way; I will dwell in the house of the Lord, which is to say, under cover of the forest preserve pavilion.