Certainly don’t consider myself a poet by any stretch of the imagination! But here’s something that’s been on my heart… This is just my reflection on what type of Gospel witness it is for Pastors to leave churches every few years (or sooner). Sometimes Pastors leave for greener pastures and sometimes they leave because they were “forced” to (whether by an actual firing or a group of people who will simply not follow). Regardless the reason, what type of statement does this make to a lost and dying world?
What must the neighbors think?
To dwell near the Pastor’s home grants an interesting perception
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, the seasons come and go
And so do the tenants
Here today, gone tomorrow, they blow away like autumn leaves
Each one is the same
Arrival with the vigor and enthusiasm of Spring
Departure with the coldness of the coming Winter
The people do not change, what must the neighbors think?
What is this Gospel being proclaimed? Where is its power?
What is this Christianity?
If this is the love of Jesus, why would we want a part?
The carousel preaches a sermon more impactful than the pulpit
Our church, our way and the Pastor will not stay,
What must the neighbors think?
He comes with lines all heard before
People, Promises, Programs
But Winter looms on the horizon. When the days begin to get dark he leaves.
Towards something better? Towards a new Spring.
What type of love is this? It cannot weather a storm.
The revolving door is a powerful evangelist.
What must the neighbors think? We want no part.
Bad actors in a bad play.
What is this Gospel? Where is its power?
As Pastors march in and out, we’ll continue our march…
Towards a Christless eternity
Recent Comments