I'm a Sacristy Queen

 This is a satirical poem I wrote a few years back... One of the best ways to not become a bad liturgist is to poke fun at the part of you that can quite easily go over the top...

I'm a Sacristy Queen

I’m a Sacristy queen, as high as can be,
benediction, incense, sherry, or nothing, for me.
Others twitter and flitter to Michno, disgrace
It’s Lamburn’s formations that put a smile on His face.
Some say I’m outdated, that my time is past,
but projectors and big screens and hand claps won’t last.
Get down on one knee and show me some class.

I’m a Sacristy queen, just hear me squeak
At the Sursum Corda you dare not just speak.
Ad Orientem not ad hoc plebian.
Liturgical language is Jacobean.
Unless there’s a maniple it’s not a Mass
And if that’s a problem I’ll verger your ass.
Don’t come to the altar not dressed for the task.

I’m a Sacristy queen, a rubric fiend,
I’ll cite every council that’s ever convened.
Amice and Alb, surplice, or cotta?
Better dress right or persona non grata.
If your stole is not crossed, if your biretta's askew
Your one with the lord I'll simply construe
But if your in Almy its simply Adieu.

I’m a Sacristy queen, and my day will come,
When Hagia Sophia will be out done.
With my dress so divine and my purse quite on fire
I’ll lead the host of the heavenly choir.
In a procession that will surpass any Rogation
Onward and upward to an Heavenly location
Leaving Low Churchmen all in frustration.

I’m a Sacristy queen, as high as can be,
When it comes to liturgics don’t mess with me.

-Ben Garren