Jiggity Jig ;-)

“Home again, home again jiggity jig.” Jiggity Jig? First opportunity, I typed “jiggity” into the cyberspace dictionary and nada, nothing. “J-I-G,” bingo! Folk dance in triple time, especially one with kicking or jumping steps… wiggle, shake, jerk. That’s exactly what I felt like doing as we pulled into the driveway, kicking up my heels! “Hot diggity dog, we’re home!”

The older I get, the more routine is desired. Away from home, I get out of my established pattern. I’m out of sorts until the groove is reestablished, just ask Doris. That’s why it’s great to be home, because the rut is once again within sight and magnetically beckoning me in. Sinking back down into it feels safe and comforting. With advancing age, nemesis change is always out there lurking, threatening to breakup the routine. How dare it! Get thee behind me, change! We, the mature, established ones, must unite together against it! “Hear! Hear!”

It’s a good thing that old people, like us, rule the establishment and are “keepers of the routine,” or this world would be going to “hell in a hand basket,” as the old saying goes. And we have a handle on all of the old sayings, don’t we? Ah, yes, the main-line religious establishment is in good hands, my friends. Anyway, back to my changeless routine.

First thing up in the morning, I begin an exercise routine. After stretching, the cable music channel is tuned to “Today’s Country,” surround sound stereo, high decimal and bass thumping loudly. For twenty minutes, I begin to move, jiggity jig, to the beat of the music, triple time, kicking, jumping, wiggling, shaking and jerking extemporaneously until the is sweat is running down my brow. There’s nothing like moving to the lyrics of, “God don’t want me to be a cowboy no more;” it really gets the adrenalin flowing. So it goes every morning like clockwork, followed by a little strength training and thirty laps in the pool.

Young folk would call what I’m doing dancing, but old nemesis guilt insists that it’s nothing more than an exercise routine. Young folk had their way, there’d be dancing in the church. God forbid! Good thing we old folk are in control.

Where I go to church, we have groups who perform, solo and in unison with tambourines, imagine that! It used to be that these groups stood in place sternly at attention with tambourines in hand, arms shaking up, down and sideways. Then old nemesis change raised its ugly head and now, in some circles, every part of the body is shaking, kicking, jumping, wiggling and jerking (jiggity jigging) during performances. Secularists would view this as a dance routine, but the old folks in control know better than that. Nothing has changed; it’s simply a traditional timbrel routine, no more, no less (Holy Liturgical Movement), certainly not dancing. Perish the thought! No worries dear reader, we have everything under control.

Dancing is of the Devil, as the old saying goes.

Praise the LORD.

Sing to the LORD a new song,
his praise in the assembly of the saints.

Let Israel rejoice in their Maker;
let the people of Zion be glad in their King.
Let them praise his name with dancing
and make music to him with tambourine and harp. (Ps 149:1-3 NIV)

Oh, coincidentally, in the Faith section of today’s newspaper was the headline, “Young Protestants drop out” with byline, “Congregations lose 70% of teen churchgoers once they turn adult.” Of those taking the survey, “Dropouts were more than twice as likely than those who continued attending church to describe church members as judgmental, hypocritical or insincere.”

But not to worry, dear ones, those teens will eventually come to their senses and discover the groove. You see, it is inevitable because one day “the jig will be up,” so the old saying goes, and they too will become “Keepers of the Routine.”

Good thing we old folk are eternally in control!