The person teaching from the pulpit has a much better view of the world than anyone. As that Preacher/Teacher looks out over the Congregation, the world is looking back at him (etali'i), standing in the loneliest place in the building.
Ode to Pastor Jackson
By Arley Steinhour 031912
I have a love for another man,
Along the lines of mine for Jesus,
In life, I count upon one hand,
The Allan Jackson's, that does please us;
'Us,' the Three, God, Jesus, and me too,
In Spirit, God, Jesus, plus mortal, me,
A foursome fit, that wears like good shoes,
Filling the Four Winds, of God's Family Tree.
He came to town, one fate filled day,
Elected to preach at our Church,
In little time, we found akin to say,
'Time of Gentile soon left in the lurch.'
Two years he preached, with Bible sway,
Word of God did fill the pews,
Soon was found, folk held him at bay,
Not preaching what they would choose.
Shades of Christianity, schism in the making,
Half the Congregation wanted focus changed,
Half held to Pastor's teaching, Truthful staking,
In lieu of 'Time of Gentile,' rearranged.
With sacrifice, and Christian love,
Pastor left the Congregation,
Some left with him, urged from above,
To form a brand-new Jesus Station.
For a year, our Gathering, did,
Without an increase of number,
Decision made, we close the lid,
'Gathering' water dry, sad to remember.
We walked away, the founding five,
No more to meet again,
'Messiah's Gathering,' no more alive,
Spiritual tears fell from our chins.
A year has passed, we seldom talk,
Each one taking diverse pathway,
Pastor gone, from where we others walk,
Our love follows him, I feel, more than halfway.
Wherever Pastor totes his 'Cross,'
He has our love to urge him on,
To his calling, may we be like dental floss,
That he does well, when he's called upon.
I'm sure we all have prayed,
many times many, before,
Pastor's path, with gold you've paved,
Until we all enter Heavens door.