Emergent

How can one man find More faith in a crevasse of Siula Grande, Than most will ever know, Sitting beneath a pulpit on Sunday? Dulling the truth to grow the census, Merchants and cowards comfort the carnal ear. Marketing Christ’s love without his conviction, Left willful in sin with nothing to fear. In half doctrines and custom alter calls, Prostituting the truth with all forms of prosperity. Akin to seeding hookers in the chambers of Heaven. Deceived to death twice by hand and blasphemy. Feeding wolves from among your own flocks. In the banquets of ancient mystics and bride Blavatsky, Word of Faith gorging on their mammon, Left choking in an insatiable eternity. A culture’s blue concessions are gone, Giving more choices leaving Paul’s letters unread. No church discipline or discernment left, Testaments of burning flesh that once bled. Refusing to submit to be broken. Fading old blessings from past obedience. Confusing favor with common grace, Hypocrisy’s retribution birthed decadence. Millions claiming the found life of the few, In every eulogy and requiem, Lukewarm afterthoughts of the Son, Losing everything by never knowing him. Despising the light of the living truth, Lobotomizing guilt with the scalpel of ignorance. Finding solace in the darkness of mystery. Death marches infectious rainbows of tolerance. Redefining roles and covenants in hemorrhaging lies Under the pretense of the modern states, Illusions of enlightenment killing somatic slaves. Relativism’s heart courting the things he hates. Enticed by the delusions of utopias, Bound in the fables of autonomy. Throats upon The two-edged sword, In this American tragedy ------------------------------------------------------- 12.04.14 This poem attempts to capture the Fundamentalist view on certain issues with other movements within Christianity. Also, the man in the crevasse, chose a different kind of faith than you may have assumed.