Suffering Bishop

 

He tangoed with the world

And they loved him from the pulpit
Spoke the layman’s tongue
Pacing oft their aisles close by
Used to love the Greek
And its marvelous precision
Used to woo his pipe
As the smoke rose to the sky
Had a faithful wife
Who would laugh and thus relieve him
Had a humble start
In some store-front dens of prayer
Rose in rank ascribing
To Church calendar’s dictation
Still the people’s hearts
Were his major love and care.
“Bishop” soon they called him
But his heart still in the sheepfold
Bleatings much preferred
To the policies of men.
Bibles less and less
Made the fount of life’s solution
Could they ever child-like
Hush …and come to Christ again?
Soon things got still sillier
Changing holy writ and gender
Talking oft in circles
Of the marriage rite defiled
Making life an option
In the unborn pure and tender
Seeing not their Master
As He praised and hugged each child.
Then the word “retirement”
And the accolades and speeches
Happy pictures taken
And posted quick to Net
Looking back a landscape
With muddy trench and crater
Baffled how the Son of God
Would have the victory yet.

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