What if Jesus had been a union man,
and his twelve disciples had all been plumbers?
Or tool-and-die guys, or even
photocopier repair technicians?
Imagine the parables that might have been told
of leaking U-bends, and toner cartridges
found at the back of the supply cupboard,
right behind the post-its and motivational t-shirts.
His mother would have run the show
for sure – along with all the other stalwarts
who had paid their dues over the years.
You know the ones I mean – there’s always one or two.
In the end, the church probably would have been
better maintained, and letters and regulations
would always look just so. But you can be sure
the internal dynamics would be just as dysfunctional.
Perfectly, expertly executed. Bravissimo!
ha. it certainly is dysfunctional at times…even with in the unions…as much as it is in the church…nice commentary…
One of the things that makes it hard to believe in a perfect god is how consistently imperfect we(the supposed crown of creation) are eternally in so very many arenas. Just my two cents. I like the dry and sharp knife this poem uses to cut to ts conclusions.
lovely imaginations and explorations.