By Lucas Krueger
Was I meant to be a priest? Not the celibate ones,
the ones who can’t marry; I think God believes in fun.
Otherwise, it’d be a drag to imagine heaven.
Likewise to solicit potential clients who then
would have recourse to employ a solicitor
for a class action due to my omission of caveat emptor.
If I were a holy roller, I’d have more sins than pins,
more nights in the gutter, many fewer than at compline,
but I’d hope for a God with both humor and heart
who appreciates an occasional drink and jokes about farts,
who loves the martyrs Father Flote and Master Bells,
men of their ilk. That’s a God that will say, “Well…
that boy’s got a storm a’coming with unforgiving millibars.
He needs jokes about priests and rabbis; and a Cuban cigar.”
Somehow I hope that deity welcomes me at Their table,
I’d wouldn’t consider myself one of the collared in Their stable,
but one of those blessed with a mind and a will,
along with a thought or two about how man once had gills;
to inspire minds to question and doubt, to reason
to love…and worry less about bones for pleasin’
dogmas who guard and attack and rip to shreds
fragile souls, who like us all have on their path tread
and stumbled, had stomachs rumble, had fate humble
them to the point where they say, “I can’t reassemble,
too many parts have been lost. So I’d want to retrofit
whatever’s been tossed to time with a CFRP composite
for strength stronger than mine.” I’ve let down
more than uplift. Perhaps that I am a clown,
who knows more jokes than epistles or psalms,
will count in discernment, more as virtue than a wrong.
Postulancy, can you be far from my grasp? Or
shall roaming charges interrupt that I’ve been called for?
Could I sit with the dying? I’d like to believe
myself capable. Could I assure someone reprieve
from the most abhorrent of sins? I’d like
to believe my faith would sustain that fight.
Could I stand firm through a maelstrom of hate,
and ensure that my humor will not dissipate?
Could God hear my cries, lift me up
when the truth of the humor proves too much?
Partnered with truth, faith plays the straight man
to keep humor alive, when God seemingly has no plan
that we discern or try to divine; and hope springs infernal,
to remind us: rancor is doltish and laughter’s eternal.
Luke Krueger is a playwright, whose work has been seen across the country and Canada. Plays have been published with Playscripts, Inc., Next Stage Press, and Original Works Publishing. Luke has served on the faculty at Arizona State University, Penn State, Lake Forest College, Loyola University and Northern Illinois University. He is a featured performer at the Rumpus, a regular storytelling production in the Rutland area. In March, he will be a featured poet for Inifinit Lit at the Sparkle Barn in Walingford, VT. Luke holds an MFA in creative writing from Arizona State University and is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America. He is currently in the discernment process to become a priest in the Episcopal Church. Luke teaches English at Long Trail School in Dorset, Vermont. He lives in Manchester with his wife and two daughters.