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He Built This City, But He Didn’t Write the Song

He Built This City, But He Didn’t Write the Song

Last updated on: July 16, 2009 at 5:44 pm by Fr. Joseph Huneycutt

He Built This City, But He Didn’t Write the Song 2009-07-16T17:44:00-05:00 Fr. Joseph Huneycutt

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Still away on vacation in North Carolina, but this AFR repeat about St Constantine the Great is one of my favorites …

A friend of mine is a priest in a special Greek Church named after Mother and Son Saints: Helen and Constantine.

When I say this is a special Greek Church, I don’t mean just a big temple, parking lot, annual festival and gymnasium.

Of course they have all that …

But, I mean they’ve got something really special … way down in the basement. I never would have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes …

Y’all …

They have a Time Machine!

That’s right, an honest to goodness Time Machine that will transport you to any destination you wish. Well, almost. That is, you can go anywhere within the so-called “Christian Era” … BUT, your destination must be connected with a Saint.

Being one for new adventures, I said, “Sure, I’m game! How ‘bout we just try the Great Emperor Constantine?!”

So I pulled the lever and WOOSH! I was really taken aback … being hurled through the ages at lightening speed! Head swimming, colossal noises, (well you get the picture) …

Next thing I knew I was hurled down into a ramshackle house — a bit of a hovel — and people kept calling me Bernie. (For some reason, I dunno, “Bernie” is obviously my Time Travel Name.)

Anyway …

There came a loud knock at the door and I opened it to see three frazzled and haggard faces – hippie types — come rushing into my house and say:

“Bernie! You’re not going to believe what happened!”

I said — “Where am I?”

They looked at me curiously and said, “Bernie, you’re in Rome … it’s the year 313 … and you’re always babbling about that silly thing you call a Time Machine; now sit down and listen!”

Friends, I didn’t know what else to do but to sit down. Then they related their harried tale of woe …

“Bernie, it was Saturday and we were worshipping in the community worship center, you know — wearin’ jeans, banging tambourines, strumming our guitars and singing the ancient hymn …”

I said, “Kumbaya?”

“No! You know …

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