Archive for July 31st, 2009


Sheep Not of This Fold

Sometimes I wonder if at the end of the day
it all comes down to love, nothing more –
love was enough to correct the sins of this world

and yet set the world on its head too
as telling from well-written, pragmatic doctrine
acknowledge the concept, ignore the application –

                  my brother’s keeper, love my neighbor

cloak personal responsibility with compassionate conservatism,
an oxymoron if there ever was one
keeping us from the core, the root of the message, the root of the vine –

                  When branches become bold and grow too far
                  they become heavy under their own weight –
                  and break.

If, as my friend says,
all theology is autobiographical
then he is right: love be the answer –

my biography, my choice, driven by one question –
what force guides my hand in this world?
One question. That’s all.

Do I have to name-drop Jesus for everything I do?
How much bad theology can I fabricate
pimping Jesus as means for my transparent and mortal ends?

                   Justify my greed. Justify my worldliness.

Must I say His name for others to know I am in this fold?
A fold seemingly that has become a twisted marketing scheme
propped up by bad theology and simple answers?

And sermons finely crafted to wiggle my way off the moral hook
sermons that all end in John 3:16
and an “amen” yelled from a popular elder

leaning against the back wall of some
gymnasium-converted-into-worship center
who asked the prayer chain on Tuesday night

to pray for his doomed 401K after betting on China
and lead-painted toys and designer knock-offs made by children
like the purse his wife carries to class on Sunday.

They’re godless communists, look where that got ’em.

Go ahead Brother, as you like to call each other,
drive your SUV into the city where you are completely lost
if it helps your conscience –

tell your friends if it makes you feel bigger
the next time you’re downtown
for a sporting event. Take a boat into a remote village

on your mission trip shouting His name
over a malaria-infested river so all know
who it is, who sent you.

Hold your stale cracker up
to the dry mouths of the poor
make them mouth the words Brother

say you love Him, c’mon say it
say you are saved –
and eat.

[copyright 2009] Darren King

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