What Happens in the Church Office, Stays in the Church Office
I
Behind the doors where holy business gets discussed,
Where sacred words are spoken and reputations are trusted,
There sits a little kingdom, with papers in a stack,
Where everybody's smiling—until somebody talks back.
The preacher wears his Sunday smile, respectable and bright,
But Monday morning brings another kind of light;
For sermons may be heavenly, with angels in the air,
But church-office conversations can become a different affair.
The secretary knows the schedule, the passwords and the files,
She knows who missed the meeting and who stayed away awhile;
She knows who gave five dollars and who gave fifty grand,
And who shakes the preacher's hand while hiding something in his hand.
And everybody whispers, though nobody will confess:
"What happens in the church office stays in the church office, I guess."
