Our Pastor (12) Algoa Bay Port Elizabeth

Published in the Church Newsletter

A carpenter, who, clad with tools,
Walked swiftly up the aisle
He reached the pulpit, then laid down
his very heavy pile.

The organist, who watched him,
Was thinking he was daft,
“What’s up?” she asked the carpenter,
who casually laughed.

“The pulpit has been broken,”
said the latter with a frown,
“Your pastor has a hefty fist,
and has hammered the pulpit down.”

“My head aches every Sunday,”
said a woman, (who was German),
“The pastor uses his fist and voice,
to emphasize his sermon.”

The curly-headed pastor
Shouted, “Everyone’s a sinner!
You’re not going home so early,
So forget about your dinner!”

The pulpit, by some miracle,
Stood and bore and pounding fist,
“You weren’t at prayer-meeting either,
You must go, I insist!”

At times the pastor’s cheerful,
He gives such hearty chuckles,
And he even gives a laugh,
when he examines his broken knuckles.

The sermons will continue
For very, very long,
And yet they are so interesting,
Dear sweet, old uncle John!

Reproduced with permission
SJA