In your life
you noiselessly turn the page
forget what you read
what you wrote and what you said
‘Time marches on,
and besides, I’ve done no wrong!’
Yet sit, shut, and reflect–
down, up, and upon:
you’ve done an ‘unrecht’,
perhaps more than one–
and shall you not be summoned?
woe unto you who would not be taught
who put pride and pet doctrine First
For sitting in judgment you shall be judged
For acting accuser you shall be accused
Did you not see that the διάβολος
holds this in common with you?
You broke a trust
for you were bound by the law of harmony.
You made yourself arbiter of
in matters you did not understand–puffed up!
Your passion was sufficient cause,
it justified unauthorized assault.
Bad enough that you Deny the Power Thereof
while you wear your religion as a mantle
Bad enough that God no longer speaks–
but even with the record of when He did
you’re the final word;
like a deist cuts miracles
you cut the inconvenient;
your tradition is red, while the passage is blue.
Blue is wrong, with no questions asked.
Yet all the time you proclaim yourself
Guardian of the Canon!
Such irony signals delusion while
Your Bible’s binding seems thin…
You contradict the Spirit, and shall you not be summoned?
In your fired-up confusion you rose up
senseless arguments, baseless complaints
and false testimony fell black and rank
from the mouth and onto the page
closed ears and closed minds and cold arrogance
wove a string of injustices
an insensibility, dulness to grace and reasoning.
You were called–to sling mud,
sow discord, doubt, and deafness,
to instigate revolution against Revival
because you found the instruction ‘New’.
Sheep stone the sheepdog, and shall you not be summoned?
First crime in the heart
second in the mouth
to draw others after you
to taint their hearing
Now people are confused
You’ve set rot in the root of
You weren’t content to be naughty yourselves
you dammed up the river for everyone else.
You’ve quenched the Spirit for all, and shall you not be summoned?
Poison was in the rebuttal
Envy brought to light by the thought
of what you’d been missing
spurned on by conviction of self-importance
‘Who has the right, as sheep in the pew,
to direct the preacher in his call?
Yours truly, yours truly! Tradition!
Yours truly, yours truly! Tradition!’
Can you not feel the weight of
the chains on your mind?
You slow your own renewal, and shall you not be summoned?
You’ve taken up new residence
and sent for your paperwork
as if nothing’s happened!
Do you not know the gavel has fallen
the verdict declared?
Old Testament and New
you’ve disdained–commandments broken
and the Body wounded
and you’ve no remorse!
Shall the church not be warned
that your Thought is Pharisaical
and your spirit vindictive?
All this because you were a know-it-all
and put unthinking rote
rock-aged folly before
growth, understanding, upbuilding,
indeed even love;
a tiny seed of unteachable pride
takes root– turn round once, twice,
and it is a sweeping weed,
its fruit anger, clamor, slander and malice.
No room for openness, compassion, no room even to listen–
‘Cast out the heretic, though we can’t explain why!’
God sees the abuse of His faithful ones;
does He not call to repentance the abusers?
You’ve assaulted your brother, and shall you not be summoned?
It’s unfathomable you’ve not disgusted yourself–
but faith that is cold, neither in the heart
nor seeking the Spirit,
cannot easily feel conviction,
and contentment with self’s Now
breeds complacency, sloth, arrogance,
and, horribile dictu!, indifference even to the pain of family.
Do you flail about in your indignation
then walk away from the wreckage
expecting no consequences?
But perhaps Romans’ fourteenth chapter has been excised
from your version.
One who does not reflect is due no honor.
Each of us will give an account, and shall you not be summoned?