by Ariel Douglas (16 November 2014)
All I ever hear you do is complain
You complain about the sun, the snow, and the rain
All I hear you talk about is separation
Each race should only marry in their orientation
You talk about how no one cares what you do
No one in the church works hard but you
"It takes two hours to set it all back up"
You sneer filling another coffee cup
"They moved all my decorations around on the stage"
Your scorn feeds into the other's defensive rage
"Well, you put your decorations where my kids have to stand"
You turn away with the coffee cup in your hand
Behind me I hear "I can't believe you're talking about that in a church"
Well if it's not fit for church, then it's not fit for dirt
You stare at me blankly when I correct you in that
"Well in the privacy of your home it's alright to chat"
But no, that's wrong as well
God hears every quiet secret you tell
At last someone else stands with me in this
"That's right, so end the conversation," you hiss
And now you come trying to impress me
"I just need to get away from him, you see"
But even that is judgmental and rude
I look up and say, "Even that, sir, was crude"
Silence greets me from across the way
And I let it stand, for there's nothing to say
What would Jesus do, you ask?
Well, if for God's glory, He'd redo EVERY task
He'd compromise and have the children stand forward
He'd correct in love and not act untoward
He'd never speak of things
Unfit for a child of the King
He'd love everyone the same
Love's not a choice like playing a game
Because HIS bride is every color and race
He'd toss the tables in this apathetic place
And weep for the insincerity that burns me
Because this place is supposed to be holy
But instead it's full of snivelling children twice my age
Because for them Christianity is a stage