The Preacher

There is an awful tendency amongst holy men to profit from the piety of their followers. Whether it be the farcical extremes of wealth preachers like Joel Osteen, the vulgarly opulent lifestyles which Catholic Bishops are repeatedly caught indulging in, or the more moderate Mercedes-Benz and townhouse lifestyles of inner city pastors. There is a lot more to be said on the mechanics of this, being a phenomenon filled with patchy greys of every shade, but in it’s most simple this is deplorable.

 

The Preacher went from town to town,

offering salvation to all who drown.

Taking from all who rue their fate,

but their offerings could never sate.

Every Sunday their tithes he weighed,

and demanded more to him was paid.

More and more his greed knew no end,

the poor for themselves were left to fend.

They laboured sweating and broken backed,

struggling to make up for what they lacked.

While he stood and preached salvation,

offering the gathered their emancipation,

from the ebb and flow of earthly woes,

and to deliver them at Heaven’s toes.

But with cold heart he ignored their suffers,

and turned to count the silver in his coffers.

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