OctPoWriMo 21 - Sweet

How sweet are Your words to my taste,

Sweeter than honey to my mouth!

Psalm 119:103

I found the honey in the tomb

And it was sweet.

I took it home

And shared it ‘round

And it was sweet.

You mixed it with a bitter drug

And called it great.

You built a shrine and locked it up

To keep the lepers out.

But honey doesn’t spoil

And, beneath the acrid bane,

It is sweet.

You’ve tried to keep it to yourself;

You walled it off to keep it safe;

But it was not meant to be hoarded.

Fling wide the gates,

Break down the walls,

And share with all.

It is sweet.

 

OctPoWriMo 19 - No Opiate

I saw a prophet on the street:

His head was bowed in base defeat.

He had no home and naught to eat,

While pastors lie and steal and cheat,

And gratify our itching ears;

They pander for the cash and cheers.

And then the roar of masses strong

Drowns out the gentle tender song

Of Love. The rough and angry throng

Are but a clanging, strident gong.

True love is patient; love is kind;

But sometimes love is hard to find.

Religion is no opiate—

It is a cancer breeding hate.

The Church had promise to be great,

But then we closed and locked the gate.

To love is all we’re called to do—

Instead we fight o’er what is true.

The sweetness of the Word is lost;

The grace and welcome we have tossed.

We must return now to the Cross,

And burn away our filthy dross,

Our rags and rubbish, and the mould,

So all remains is purest gold.

 

OctPoWriMo 8 - Open the Doors

Open up the doors and beat the drums,

Fling wide the gates and tear down every wall,

And let the music play for all to hear.

No one is refused for all means all.

The church was meant to be an open door

That all may come and find that boundless love,

But we have lost the plot along the way,

Forgotten love is love is love is love.

Oh God, please help us turn back toward You,

Repent of pride and selfishness and fear,

Repent of hating those we think are gross:

The poor, the foreigner, the sick, the queer.

Remind us that You stand along with them;

Upon the door You knock with steady hand,

So patient, though we’ve locked ourselves inside;

You wait for us, You ask, You don’t demand.

We’ve hoarded all the talents that You gave

And stashed our lights beneath a bushel box,

We push away the world You came to save,

We praise and pat ourselves upon the back.

Open wide the doors and breach the gates;

Go out into the world and love them all;

Return to You Who called us by Your Name;

Remember it was for the world You came.

 

OctPoWriMo 7 - Dear Church

Dear church, I see you
Singing, speaking words of love
Then doing just the opposite.
You stand up to pray:
“God, I thank you that I am not like others…”
Like the Pharisees of old,
You will be passed over.
For God has chosen the weak,
The shunned, to confound the strong.
Crucify him. Crucify them.
We will rise again.

OctPoWriMo 5 - Love Denied

Today's prompt is "denied" and I decided to do a florette as I didn't do one when it was the suggested form.

My topic is something that has been in my heart a lot lately.

Graphic created by author

Love Denied

Jesus loves me, this I know;
You say you want to help me grow,
But when I show you who I am,
I am denied. Your love’s a sham. It’s just for show.

The church was never meant to be
A corporate monopoly.
He said we are to be His bride.
We’re meant to be a family, yet we divide.

God is love and love is love
And I am vastly weary of
Conditions that are placed upon
His unconditional love. Stop it. Begone.

Homeless

John Pavlovitz said something in a recent blog post that really resonated with me. He said that many Christians are finding themselves “homeless” within the church, that “they’ve arrived at a spot where they realize, often with tremendous grief and a fair bit of denial—that they no longer belong where they once did. They no longer fit in American Christianity.” I’m Canadian, so my experience isn’t exactly the same, but lately I have been feeling adrift. I no longer feel at home with fellow Christians.

I am reminded of Rich Mullins’ song “You Did Not have a Home” where he reminds us that Jesus “did not have a home… [and] did not toe the party line… but the hope of the whole world rests on the shoulders of a homeless Man.” Jesus didn’t have a home church. Jesus wandered in the wilderness, preached in the mountains, rode the waves on the open sea, and asked us to follow Him.

There is a tradition in the church that we must attend services. This is mostly based on Hebrews 10: 24-25, which says

And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching. (NKJV)

It’s that “not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together” that gets read as a command to go to church every Sunday. But that’s not what it says. All it says is that we should spend time with other Christians.

Now, I love many things about church. I’ve attended all my life, and there are things in services that I just can’t find anywhere else. I love worshipping together with other Christians. I love the sense of community that is found in the best congregations. But I don’t feel that lately in any church I’ve tried. Instead I feel ignored, misunderstood, or shunned.

Maybe it’s time to “shake off the dust from [my] feet” (Matt. 10:14) and find something new. I just wish I knew how to begin.