Christians Aren’t So Christian Anymore
Christians aren’t so Christian now—
The Cross is strangely Light—
It weighs no more than Fashion’s thread
Or Vapor in the Night—
They speak His Name as one would coin
To purchase earthly Gain—
And barter Mercy at the Door
For Certain of Pain—
The Hymns are tuned to Vanity,
The Prayers to public View—
The Poor still knock with wounded Hands—
Unanswered—at their doors—
Once Faith was stitched with trembling Thread
In quiet rooms of Dust—
Where no Applause disturbed the Knees
That bent because they must—
Now Judgment lifts a Scarlet flag
Where Love once kept her Tent—
And Stones are cast with Scripture’s weight
But none with Tears are sent—
If Christ should walk these pews today
In borrowed Flesh and Breath,
They’d ask His Politics before
They asked Him about Death—
Yet still a Sparrow dares to sing
Above the Market’s Roar—
And God remains where God has been—
Behind the slammed Front Door—
For Faith is not the Noise it makes,
Nor Banners, nor the Crowd—
It is the unseen breaking Heart
That dares to whisper Loud.
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