Briefly tearing my eyes, at once enraged and horrified, from the spectacle of barbarism that is Hamas, I note that today is the Feast of Saint Luke. In a world in dire need of spiritual physic, not to say an emetic of the soul, and of Greek logic and learning, that is no bad thing. It is also for half the world, though one can hardly feel it here, more or less Autumn. I am not celebrating ‘Fall Day’: for me, Autumn begins when I hear the first geese overhead. Even so, it is the time of year in which one turns to rereading Aldo Leopold and John Graves. And darkling though the world seems—if one discounts the Providence of Almighty God—, there is time even in a dire time for a little Anglican humor for those who can bear it. To wit:
The Texas Doxology (Anglican)
Praise God, th’ Eternal Trinity:
For barbecue and H-E-B,
Tex-Mex, the ’Stros, and the Gulf Coast,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
The Virginia Doxology (1928) (Anglican)
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow:
For Cohee and for Tuckahoe:
Spoonbread and Smithfield hams we boast;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
The Kentucky Doxology (Anglican)
Praise God, whose blessings fall like dew,
On bourbon, horses, and burgoo;
Let this be our Call to the Post:
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
The Chester County, Pennsylvania Doxology (before 1789) (Anglican)
Praise God, from whom all blessings come:
We, far from Severn and from home,
’Midst Friends, Lenape, folk named ‘Jost’,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Markham Shaw Pyle, author & historian 