You Don't Belong
(This poem is to illustrate how we as the Church we are often gulilty of judging the world and not being willing to associate with them, even though we were once in their shoes, and they need God's love, not our judgement.)
“You don't belong here,” I was told,
“You simply don't fit in.
Your shoes don't fit our standards
and your clothes look rather thin.
Just turn around and walk back out
You ragamuffin child.
And we'll forget this incident
Your disgrace shall not be filed.
I know you thought the church was kind
--you thought God freely gave.
That may be right but not for you
Your kind God doesn't save.
I know the Bible says He's love
--that simply can't be true.
How could God love everyone
and how could He love you?
Your looks are nothing special
and your face is smeared with dirt,
Your hands are rather crooked
and your foot seems to be hurt.
The truth is this, as you will see,
Yes, this is what I mean:
You aren't perfect but this church is,
So go away and leave us be.”
These things were spoken angrily
Apparently I'd sinned.
I left that church and wondered why
I hadn't been let in.
As I thought I realized
This ugly, wretched truth:
If the church can save itself
By their righteousness alone,
Then God must have made an awful mistake
When He died to save the world.
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