There are times that I feel just angry. I don’t mean to, and I know that it’s wrong. I should be more patient, understanding, and encouraging. I just get mad though.
I get really angry with American (or Western) Church mindsets, and how people can so easily get sucked into “Church Culture” rather than true and fruitful Faith in Christ. I can literally rant and rant and rant and rant and rant and rant and rant and rant and RANT on this topic for hours, as those who know me in person can attest. This past week, at my church, i was thinking about this, and getting angry about this, and stated thinking about it.
I then began writing.
I was able to get out some of my anger in the poem below, and communicate how I was feeling, and call out those who I feel need to be called out (if they read it…)
It is long. I was going to apologize of it, but truly – Sorry, not sorry! I couldn’t stop… and I think it needs to be said. So take the time to read it please. So here it is.
Plunged deep in the world
Anchored by the Truth I know
Seeking a way to love the Tares,
Finding it easier than believed.
But as time progresses, love demands more.
My heart breaks as my treasured friends flail.
Trying to find happiness, joy and purpose.
Failing and left wondering Why.
How do I console and comfort
When my respite, my solace, is not what they want to hear.
Their deepest need and the completion of their desires,
They reject as archaic, narrow and just not for them.
“The hypocrites, the judgement, the culture that skewed,
The church doesn’t want them” They think and they cry.
And they’re not wrong.
The church is uncomfortable with friends like mine.
Their lives are messy and filled with grime.
Pain beyond measure, impossible choices,
Risky situations and problems we can’t solve.
How do we act with the lost in our way?
The Pharisees, that brood of vipers,
The religious “elite”, those Whitewashed tombs,
They judge, spurn and withdrawn in disgust.
The proclaim shallow praise for their “pious natures,”
While looking down on the broken with a sneer and a stare.
Look to our leader, our ever Faithful Big Brother.
How does Jesus engage the lost?
Does He judge, spurn and withdraw,
Or does He love, move close and embrace?
Matthew and Mark both tell the tale,
Jesus was eating, living and loving,
The worst of the sinners, the tare, the lost.
THIS is our call, oh broken church!
To be a Christian, oh “Little-Christ.”
Our Lord would embrace, love and reach to meet needs.
Do you push them aside or cross the road,
or, God-forbid, attack and judge.
Do you assume you know their state?
Do you know their minds, their thoughts and their pains?
The lies they believe or the Truth they can’t see?
Christ came for the sick, the lost, the sinners to the core.
How quickly we forget that’s our state for sure.
Why do we think we can elevate our plight?
That we’re not “that bad” or never took it “that far”
But save the hand of our Lord reaching down
Our state would be sure and equal to theirs.
We’re indulgent, disobedient and seeking our own.
Sin breaks us all and drags us down deep,
Beyond what we think, beyond what we know.
Our desires, our lust, removes all our reason.
Don’t fool yourself, or think you’re above it.
Your state, you sin, without Christ is damning .
Not matter our sin, it removes us from God.
Separate from God, no goodness exist.
In order to love and serve the lost,
We must realize we’re not far from that heart.
Our culture, our nature, resist this approach.
We long freshen up, cover up, and boast.
To accept and speak of our weakness is shunned,
Hide the dirt and proclaim the good.
How funny, that sounds like the very attitude
The Good Lord rebuked the Pharisees for.
Hiding the truth of our sinful heart,
Claiming the glory for good in our lives.
Not realizing how hiding our sin just makes us look fake.
Promotes the idea that we are mere hypocrites.
Step beyond ourselves and how other see,
And be truthful and honest with those in view.
Don’t show off your “power” and “holiness.”
What good is that for struggling friend?
Rather boast in your weakness, and in your failings,
To show off the Glory, Power and Love,
Of the One who brings all Good to the world.
The One who saves all broken lost sinners,
Who cry out His name, and, oh, what a sweet name!
Live your life not to proclaim your goodness,
It’s worthless, filthy rags, as dear Isaiah calls it.
But look to the Good, with a capital “G”,
That comes from beyond ourselves,
From our Glorious King.
We cannot fix and save the lost.
But we were never supposed to,
For that is not who we are.
Our purpose, our aim, no matter our pride,
Is to point the lost, the ones by our side,
Our friends and dear ones,
To the only one who can.
Jesus the Christ, the God-Man, the Savior of All.
Comments, questions and criticisms are welcomed.