You don’t know how much you’ve hurt me, do you?
Up there with your corner office view,
where you don’t have to see street level kids like me
who suffer at your insistence of so-called purity.
What love is there, among your skyscrapers of divine dogma?
Where is the humility wearing the skin of another human being,
saved by power and mystery beyond our understanding?
What happened to the just because of Jesus’ love?
When did you get to decide that the Church is only open to
the mentally competent
the emotionally stable
the wealthy middle class
the white skinned
And when did you get to decide that it’s your job
to fix anything you perceived as wrong?
Did you forget that we were made where we belonged,
and how we came out of the womb is as precious as who we’ll be when entombed,
and the journey of our brokenness is a reminder of the hope we will embrace soon?
When did you forget that you too, are wretched?
And that in your wretchedness even you were found, saved, loved?
To think–you are still there!
You, Church, just as disastrous as before, as caustic and in need of compassion
as the ones you deem worthless in your hateful eyes, from your haughty rise.
I’ve been in your offices and you have ripped wounds into me.
I’ve sat in your pews only to leave bleeding and ignored.
If I was a cripple entering your doors, I am more damaged in my leaving,
but I come back once more.
I come back not with any vengeance, nor malice nor mischief,
but simply this plea:
Come see the just because love,
the it doesn’t matter what you were love,
because it all has shaped us into who we are, love.
And we will be