I knew a priest whose ministry was good,
Serving God and people as best as he could.
But tragedy struck with his dissertation,
He exploited his weakness—the whole situation!
A doctorate in ministry: he joined the proud few,
By a paper entitled, “I’m Insecure, and So Are You.”
Irony divides, can’t make up its mind.
Where do we oppose and draw the last line?
Secureness in ministry is required by the Word.
And proving the obvious is truly absurd.
A man who would choose such a odd-sounding title–!?
Only love can dispute him, just even one trifle.
A ministry seminary being so dignified
By approving his work defines him “Unqualified.”
I should have known, I should have seen,
That a man so prone would soon have to lean
On opinions of others including his dean
To validate a mess Christian brothers can clean.
And the greatest victim, the most pitied party,
Isn’t a friend once held hearty,
But the man himself, whose papers were tardy
In proving an issue Christ can heal. We should have said, “Blarney!”
Blarney on him or blarney on us
Or blarney on pain that caused such a fuss?
Who do we shame and who do we blame?
Are we the same if we sound like old Cain?
Irked on the surface, but take a look deeper:
Love is in surplus, I am my Bro’s Keeper.
Angry they filed and took exodus,
But all of us know he still misses us.
Such a odd title to join ministry
Is surely a “help cry” can’t we all see?
We do a disservice to lift someone higher
Than weakness can handle—Don’t call HIM “liar!”
He cried it so clear, ’twas writ on the wall.
So everyone knew he would someday fall.
What have we done? What has become?
Can we move on… forgetting a friend?
It should have been stopped when everyone knew
He said, “I’m insecure,” then, “So are all you.”
The only rejection us Christians should levy
Is rejection itself. I know it sounds heavy.
So let me explain, amid the cloaked strife.
Jesus said, “No!” Thus eternal is Life.
Next time a friend justifies a sad life
Consider his children, his brothers, his wife.
Telling him, “No, you’re not insecure,”
Could be just the words he needed to hear.
But all of us clung and stuck to our fear
And blamed it on him the very next year.
We can’t hate on him, Christ died for all sin.
LIFE! Just call it right in and redemption begin!
We are a family and haven’t forgotten
The common First Love, through God was begotten
And crawled in the mud, His bruises then trodden
Despised like Hitler ‘n’ Osama Bin Laden.
It’s time for a stand, to ask the one man,
If he’d take a hand and recant if he can?
We aren’t insecure, and neither is he.
Living in fear… no, it must not be!
So call my old friend and root-out the pain
and let Christ’s blood rain the stain down the drain.
I once knew a priest, I wish I still did.
I looked up to him since I was a kid.
So into my tank and slam down the lid?
No. I once knew a priest. I still wish I still did.