Here's the lamenting limerick we came up with at EMI--to the tune of the Sloop John B (Kingston Trio, Beach Boys).
My grandfather told me, I’d love the ministry
So to serve the people of God, I got my MDiv
I found before long, Grandpa was wrong
He never told me how much, I’d have to give.
I padded my resume, filled out my PIF
Told my EP I just can’t handle it all
I wanted to preach, the Bible to teach
If this is ministry, then this ain’t my call.
The Treasurer seems sedate but she borrows from the offering plates
And the elders for twenty years won’t set it aright
They just won’t say, she needs to pay,
‘Cause she knows where their husbands go on Friday nights
The choir’s at it again, they just won’t learn the new hymn
Choir director won’t plan in advance,
And old Mrs. Store, walked out the back door
The week we tried to include liturgical dance.
The Clerk came to Session drunk, and my lay leader’s in a funk
He thinks the King James is the only version that’s true
The elders agree, they won’t listen to me
They say that “thee” and “thou” are better than you
I gave a talk to the youth, and considered it uncouth
That while I spoke they texted all of their friends
They say they can hear, with buds in their ears
But I think their interest in me—is just for pretend.
PW’s in a row with the guys from Building and Grounds
‘Cause they painted the kitchen walls a shade of bright lime
A head’s gonna roll over all of this bull
Now I’m afraid, that head’s gonna be mine
I polished my resume, spat on my PIF
Told my EP these jerks can have it all
They won’t let me teach, or listen when I preach:
People of God, my ass! This isn’t my call.
Then in an evening drear, the Spirit showed me so clear
Jesus with a cross enduring all the world’s shame
He looked in my eye, and said with a sigh
How do you love without bearing some pain?
So I left my resume, shredded my PIF
Told my EP that push has now come to shove
Jesus I’ll preach, and grace I will teach
My ministry will be a labour of love