My sister is an award-winning poet. She wrote this poem about ministry. In fact, ministry gets rougher than this -- including, at times, abuse, assault, slander, and injury. But -- however -- the rewards outweigh it. While this may not be the experience of all ministers, it is often the experience of those with "front line" ministries:
Holy Smoke
by Ann Scarborough Moore
Theme: Love
He was a cleric
unencumbered by the world's realities,
mumbling incantations
from the pulpit once a week;
far too heavenly minded
to fathom earthly folk,
my father lived inside a bubble
filled with holy smoke --
or so they said, until they met him
visiting the morgue,
the prison or intensive care,
a psychiatric ward;
embracing a transsexual
or challenging a pimp,
confronting xenophobia
and domestic violence;
loving the survivor
of attempted suicide,
counselling a prostitute,
consoling the bereaved --
his life's enduring passion was
compassion for the weak.
So put that in your pipe
and smoke it, friend,
before you speak.
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