Preacher Poetry
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Preacher Poetry
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Riverside/Benoni Bulletin--033008--"Picking on the Preacher with Poetry"PICKING ON THE PREACHER WITH POETRY
It was early Sunday morning. I was shaving. Our 8
year-old daughter, Lisa, was watching with keen interest at the time.
Mildly annoying questions were coming thick and fast. "Daddy, is that
cream or soap on your face?" "Why do you have to shave?" "Why do you
pull your face funny when you shave?" That was the last straw! Wanting
to divert her attention to a more creative subject, I made a request.
"Lisa, please go make dad a cup of coffee." She peered at me quizzically
and asked, "Why, dad, do you want to stay awake during your sermon?"
The little whippersnapper!! I'll have her know I have never yet
fallen asleep during one of my sermons although I have come close to it
sometimes.
Preachers all fear a malady that their
listeners often contract. It is popularly designated as the
"Freda Follies Syndrome." It usually only strikes on Sundays. The
clinical term for this ailment is "Morbus Sabbaticus." It afflicts the
patron in the pew more than the person in the pulpit. Symptoms include
a pathologically short attention span. Nervous fidgeting has been noted
in clinical studies undertaken abroad. The victims of this frightful
condition also tend to nod their heads rhythmically or at random which
has led to an oft-quoted aphorism: "Preachers have many nodding
acquaintances!" Some hapless sufferers have even been known to
churn out spontaneous, facetious poetry that cause ecclesiastical
orators to terminate their sermons abruptly. This leaves healthy
members suffering from withdrawal symptoms. Some of the latter have been
known to beg the speaker not to conclude so quickly. Their stimulating
encouragement spurs the pulpiteer to higher levels of marathon
ministerial musings. I have often said, "When I preach I feel like
Egyptian mummies--pressed for time!"
Here is a typical example of the poetic syndrome. For
ethical reasons, the patient's identity shall remain anonymous, but her
initials are Freda Davies.
OUR TIMELESS PREACHER
What can I say? He's back again -- the preacher with
NO watch.
We all sit still - mesmerized - and hope he sees the
clock.
But the clock upon the wall has stopped so on he goes
with fervor.
This is the way that this must be with our dear old
timeless speaker.
My husband says he's hungry and wants to go and eat.
I say, "Sit still and concentrate; don't think of
bread and meat!"
Then dear old Chris does thank Al for two lessons we
have heard.
I thought he meant it as a joke but Donna said, "No,
it's the third!
We had one lesson at 10 AM and now these two
make three."
So I take my hungry husband home and give him
food and tea.
I really mustn't take the mickey out of our dear old
friend, the preacher.
Because we all do love him so and wish that he lived
nearer.
So goodbye, Al, as off you go with Donna to the
States
And leave us all who miss you -- your friends and
dear old mates.
These well-meaning but misdirected people have never
heard of the "Pauline Privilege" which counters the "Freda Follies
Syndrome." In Acts 19:8 says, "Paul entered the synagogue and spoke
there boldly for THREE MONTHS arguing persuasively about the kingdom of
God!" I have never preached a three month sermon yet, but I am willing
to try as soon as I can sign up listeners. Yup, that's a preacher's
dream come true. In Acts 20:7, Paul prolonged (KJV) his speech until
midnight! Wow, wish I had done that. Eutychus was suffering from FFS, so
he began nodding until he made a critical departure from his window
seat. [Mark this all FFS sufferers--it killed him]. No wonder a little
boy once wrote, "Elocution is the way people are put to death in
America." It's not limited to America! Subsequently, however, Paul
restored Eutychus' life miraculously and then Paul talked on until
daybreak, Acts 20:11. Bravo, Paul! Now here was a man who could
talk. He didn't believe in any of that "Be brief, be seated, begone"
nonsense sometimes foisted on word-worthy spokesmen!
Nehemiah 8:3 tells how Ezra preached from
daybreak to noon while the people STOOD. Maybe our pews are too
comfortable? Now if you hear a conversation like this, ignore it, okay?
Al: "They really enjoyed my sermon. After I finished it, they shouted,
"Fine! Fine!" Freda: "Yeah, if you'd kept on speaking 10 more minutes,
they would have yelled, "Imprisonment! Imprisonment!" Hey,
folks, Beware of False Poets!!
All I can say is: "Lord, fill my mouth with
worthwhile stuff and nudge me when I've said enough!"
Love you all anyway,
Al--"The Horne of Africa"
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