Abused by the Bride
Sunday morning. Get ready for church.
Motivation leaves me in the lurch.
Ought to do as you always have done.
Except for the echoing words of the Son:
"In Spirit and Truth"
not the uncouth
monotone mumble with tone of blase'
to worship the Lord is just not the Way.
The Father said "Would you were hot or cold."
Lukewarm behavior is getting quite old.
Every attempt at getting enthused
is a clever device corporately used.
Time and again the Spirit is spurned,
(Although they acknowledge the gift is unearned)
Each goes forward, to receive and swallow
but the joyful response is incredibly hollow.
The form of religion without its power
Is like holding the stem while they cut off the flower.
Shouldn't we heed the warning of Paul
and with these congregations do nothing at all?
Here is the church. Here is the steeple.
Look inside. See all the people.
So I am perceived a flighty church-hopper,
reluctantly putting in my pennies of copper.
Like Diogenes with the Lamp of the Word,
By indwelling Spirit, onward I'm spurred.
Yet I find myself so very alone,
Lacking more than "bone of my bone".
Fellowship-starved with no clear path to take,
"Gathering yourselves, do not forsake"
Repeatedly I've been misled
by those with whom I've broken the bread.
Abused by the Bride, I run to the Groom,
recalling what happened in the upper room:
"Go and do what you must."
Then who can you trust?
The pearl of great price -- divine inner mirth.
When the son of Man comes will He find faith on the
earth?
c 2008 TPD