Sermons About Money

Sermons About Money
By Larry Linville

My preaching began when I was quite young
in three little churches while in college .
I was lacking much in experience
And I was also lacking in knowledge.

This eighteen year old drove up that first week
I was early and nervous and afraid.
Quickly, I entered the door of that church
and rapidly to the front, where I prayed

I practiced my talk alone in that church.
I wanted to be sure it was just right.
With a strong voice and the right chosen words
which I hoped would overcome my deep fright.

The first two persons who entered the door
were the treasurer and his lovely wife.
He was quick to give some advice to me
and it hit me in my gut like a knife.

“We do not preach money from this pulpit.”
were his words which I can still hear today.
I took a deep breath – I knew I was safe
‘cause the sermon was about how to pray.

Many years have come and gone since that day
When I was given this self-serving tip.
I’ve never preached money – not even once
But I have often preached of stewardship.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Where Friends Come From

Where Friends Come From
Larry Linville
I’m thinking today of those folks
who somehow have entered my life.
They appear in the strangest ways
in good times as well as in strife.

Some people I have met on line
and other moves into my block.
People I’ve met at a cafe
and others are part of my flock.

There are many people each day
so why do these people stand out?
Why do some people pass right through
while friendship in others will sprout?

They become much more than a face --
take their place as a great treasure
remain as a big part of life
and they give me so much pleasure.

Sometimes I have so much to give
and sometimes I simply receive.
Such give and take is part life
at least that is what I believe.

So today I simply thank God
there is nothing less I could do.
And if you are one of these folks
I also express thanks to you.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work

Gas Prices and My Scales

Gas Prices and My Scales
By Larry Linville

The prices of gas is getting scary
and it directly touches old Larry.
I think my scales have a real relation
to the prices at the service station.

I think the prices of each of the sales
is from a connection to my own scales.
When I was younger and much in my prime
the cost was just two dollars and a dime.

When my weight went up from eating plenty
it increased to two dollars and twenty.
You can imagine how it worries me
as the prices increase up to near three.

Oh sure, they go down a penny or two
but they keep going up before they’re through.
I guess this must be caused by gluttony
the question’s – is it them or is it me?

Does my waistline cause increasing prices?
Am I the cause of the latest crisis.?
If you help me lose it would be nifty
And gas would sell at to a dollar fifty.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

New Visitor At Church

New Visitor To Church


She walked alone into a church one day.
Those who saw her looked the other way.
They tried to catch a sneaky peek
but nobody went to her to speak
and extend warm hospitality
so she could feel their vitality.

“Do you know that woman? one lady said.
The other shrugged her shoulders and her head.
“Her clothing is simple and out of style,”
said one to another with a smug smile.
“Did you notice her finger has no ring?”
“Perhaps she is always having a fling.”
She might be divorced – or doesn’t like men.
We sure don’t need someone like that again!
“The last one was evil -- don’t you recall?”
“If we have her with us, we may all fall.”
“She could be a widow -- it won’t be long then
‘til she starts making a play for our men.”

She sat alone as the service went on.
There was no doubt that the lines had been drawn.
The glib sermon made each one feel bolder.
The mass she was served was just cold shoulder.
The bread and the wine were not withheld
but they gave her much space as if she smelled.

As she left the service and reached the door
they had to confront – they couldn’t ignore.
They said nothing to her just as they planned
but they were startled when they shook her hand
a big nail print which could not be ignored.
Could they have been visited by the LORD?“

As you have done it to the least of these, you have done it unto me.”


© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Don't Call Me Elderly

Don’t Call Me Elderly
By Larry Linville

They try to call me elderly
a title that is not for me
a picture of one old and lame
but I’m still playing in the game.
Call me mature or call me ripe
but don’t use that elderly tripe.
Reflexes have slowed it is true
But I can right keep up with you.
When I decide where I want to go
I’ll make it – but I might be slow.
I’ve forgot more than others have learned
but I seldom ever get burned.
It’s easy these days to take a nap
and my tummy has replaced my lap.
My hair is gone -- my glasses thicker
As I walk as one with too much liquor.

Inside my body, I must say
I dwell in a much earlier day
when things were easier to do
and I had the pep to see them through.
Good times and bad have shaped my life
such as the joys I’ve shared with my wife,
my children, and my grandchildren too
and all of the special things I pursue.
Don’t call me elderly – that’s not my case
I’m in the middle of the human race,
more experienced in handling time
Really – you know – I’m just in my prime.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Old Country House

Old Country House
By Larry Linville

Out in the middle of the countryside
is a house where families used to reside.
The sway back roof once was so tough --
now the bad wolf would not need to huff
and puff to blow it down
since everyone has moved to town.

Think of the stories it could tell
when families were there and all was well.
It was built with such a plain décor
and now it’s missing every door
that let in all the cats and dogs
and once or twice some errant hogs.
The screen that once kept out the flies
and filtered the aroma of fresh baked pies
are rusted and hanging from the wall
ready with the softest breeze, to fall.

That big front porch holds a fallen limb
that’s big and broken and kind of slim.
Some missing steps that once were sound
lie under the porch upon the ground
Remembering the children’s hungry drool
as they ran for snacks right after school.

A tire at the end of a rotting rope
hangs from a limb with a gentle slope
longing for the little child
who sat in it for hour and smiled
as a parent gave the tire a shove –
a little task that was done with love.

What stories remain in this lonely place
when life was lived at a rapid pace --
Christmas, Thanksgiving stories to tell
and big birthday parties as well.
If that house spoke and we all could hear
do you think we’d shed many a tear
at the treasures that rickety building can hold
of much more value than silver or gold.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Under New Management

Under New Management
By Larry Linville

The old store stood there idle
abandoned in a lifeless shell.
The fact it once jumped with action
was impossible to tell.
A flurry of activity
suddenly filled the air.
Now a big bright banner hangs
like a fiery roadside flare.
Things will be different somehow--
it’s under new management now.

The season has gone from bad to worse
for the local baseball team.
Prospects that once looked so bright
have become a most painful dream.
They’ve traded players with no success
their record gets even worse.
Some even thought they’d been hit
by some superstitious curse.
The skipper took his final bow --
They’re under new management now.

With life a mess and hope all gone
a messed up man entered the door
of the small but beautiful church
where he’d never gone before.
Hymns were sung and prayers were prayed,
the preacher had something good to say.
It all mixed in a perfect blend
God touched him in a special way.
He left that church with a brand new vow --
he’s under new management now.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Tribute to a Coffee Friend

Old John at McDonalds
By Larry Linville

Each morning he cranked up that old black car
And drove to McDonalds where he was a star.
With coffee and paper in hand
He tried to keep everything under his command.
That old northeast chair was his throne
and he tried to maintain a regal tone.
He thought he was king, when he started to hum
Some song that everyone thought was so dumb.

He thought his job was to reply
to things said by every guy.
That smirk on his face was hard to replace
but the group would continually try
to chip away at this guy.
They’d say things absurd
But he had the last word
and that word was usually dry.

He seemed like such an irreverent cuss
But I learned he was just one of us.
He tried to prove he was sweet
When he passed out candy to eat
We weren’t sure where he got it
But he probably hadn’t bought it
And he passed it to all as a treat.


His requests to Saint Peter were few
A stained coffee cup and a paper will do.
Give him an old chair
And some friends to sit there
And John will be happy – wouldn’t you?

Strangers From The Past

Strangers From the Past
By Larry Linville

I’ve moved around a lot.
Many people have I known.
It’s a lot like a gardener
after many seeds are sown.

No matter where I seem to be
I often am aghast
when I least expect it
there’s someone from my past.

Sometimes it’s someone I have known
whose name I can’t recall
when eating at a restaurant
or shopping at a mall.

I visit with a stranger
who is completely new.
We find they know someone
and I have known them too.

When we share our lives with folks
as we live upon this earth
God will take those experiences
and give them added worth.

This happened just the other night
when I made a hospital call.
One I thought would be a stranger
was an acquaintance after all.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

If Isaiah Was Alive Today

If Isaiah Was Alive Today
By Larry Linville
(based on Isaiah 1:10-20)
Used with sermon on August 12, 2007

If Isaiah was alive today
would he approve of the way we pray?
Our beautiful sanctuaries – He’s not impressed
and He’s hardly excited at the way we are dressed.
Traditional hymns and organs don’t take the cake
and our long winded sermons can’t keep Him awake.
Our cute little promotions – don’t get me wrong
are for too distracting – He can’t hear our song.
He doesn’t see the things we think are so cool
while our treatment of others is so very cruel.
He turns off the music that comes from our bands
because of the bloodstain he sees on our hands.
We don’t hear Him ask us, “Where are the poor?”
we think He is saying, “Please lock the door.”
What if He appeared as a guest we should warmly greet
and our first words to Him are, “Please move, that’s my seat!”
Now, before you miss my big point
and begin to get your nose out of joint.
It may not be that He’s not listening to you
when your actions don’t follow the things He would do.
More likely, my friend, I must make it clear
our unloving actions make it so we can’t hear.
Since worship truly is a two-way street
the way we treat neighbors makes it complete.
The good and obedient shall be fully fed
and our worship will boldly rise from the dead.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

My Addiction

My Addiction
By Larry Linville

I’m addicted and I’m so glad
because this addiction’s not so bad.
I know it’s really taxing on me
but it’s something that makes me free.

It reaches deep into my pocketbook
steals as efficiently as any crook.
Sometimes it causes me to lose much rest
and can put my stamina to the test.

Embarrassment pops up once in a while
and leaves me with a silly-faced smile
when I say something wrong to someone
and feel like I should turn around and run.

My addiction is people, you see,
I touch their lives and they touch me.
They are the greatest reason why
people give me a natural high.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Ping and Pong's New Game

Ping And Pong’s New Game

By Larry Linville

Ping picked up a rounded stone

and then a piece of wood.

He hit that stone over to Pong

and boy, he hit it good.

Pong swung and missed that little stone

picked it up and hit it back.

Old Ping lined the stone up with the stick

and gave it a great big whack.

Back and forth they hit that stone

and they started keeping score.

They played that silly game so hard

they couldn’t play it any more.

Ping and Pong had long talks

about how this new game was presented.

And, my dear friends, this is the way

tennis was invented.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).

All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Loudness or Silence

While I was attend a Camino weekend, with lots of worship experience, I was led to consider this part of worship.


Loudness or Silence
By Larry Linville

Loudness or silence
which do I choose?
Which do I keep
and which do I lose?

“Make a Joyful noise…”
“Be still and know…”
practice your faith –
but don’t let it show.

Bi-polar spirituality
is our plight.
We are so divided
are we ever right?

Jesus was able to combine
both practices in his life.
He benefited from what
could have brought him strife.

We can try to follow
the example he gave.
Employing his direction
as we learn how to behave.

The question isn’t
which one comes first.
It’s a blessed circle
that can’t be rehearsed.

Each leads to the other
moving us higher
increasing, improving
our spiritual fire.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Time Out

I will be away from the computer for the weekend.
I will be participating in a Camino at Woods Chapel UMC through Sunday.
I still invite you to come on and look at poems in my archives.
I anticipate that God's spirit will be so close to me this week.
(Actually, it won't be any closer, I'll just be more tuned in!)
I'll have a pad and be prepared to write any inspiration I feel.

The Un-Traffic Jam

The Un-traffic Jam
By Larry Linville

That unfriendly, nagging, alarm clock went off
to remind me to go to the work I scoff.
Grumbling was the only way I could say
“I’m so tired of this drudgery every day.”
Going through the motions of acting alert
as I put on yesterday’s sweat soaked shirt.
I combed my teeth and brushed my hair
And cut myself shaving which caused me to swear.
I cannot remember just what I ate
no time for the shower – it’ll just have to wait.
As I drove down the street I felt deep dismay
Where are all the cars we have every day?
Was my clock wrong? Did it go off too soon?
Was it six in the morning or six after noon?
But where is that rush hour traffic so vain
which causes me tension and makes me insane?
Perhaps the “fundies” have always been right
and the rapture occurred sometime last night.
Those crazy commuters who make my life hell
have gone of to heaven and wished me farewell.
What must I do? Is it too late to pray?
To admit I was wrong is too hard to say.
Just a minute…the church lot is jammed.
That means, thank God, I’m really not damned.
Now I know why the traffic was so thin
People were at church confessing their sin.
It’s Sunday and I am not left in the lurch
Although I am sorry – I have just missed church.

© Copyright 2007 Larry Linville (UN: larrylinville at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved. Larry Linville has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.