Sitting in the sixth row, stage left, six bodies
From the center aisle.
No, no. Not you.
But, you who file in every Sunday, six minutes
Before the house lights go dim.
You who enter in from the same place, expeditiously,
Yet quietly, so no one sees you coming in.
You who warm the pew for the next consumer driven Christian.
And then repeat.
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room.
See, Jesus didn’t just come to rescue us from sin,
Securing our place in heaven.
He came to show us what it means to truly be human.
To be decent.
To be loving.
To be a servant.
To be forgiving.
To be meek.
To show the world what we’re for,
And not just what we’re against.
See, unbeknownst to the rest of our fellow citizens,
Jesus wants us to welcome in the Buddhist and the Muslim…
The homeless veteran with the same sob story
Every time you see him…
The gay and the lesbian…
The atheist Libertarian…
The Wiccan witch…
Hell, even the brain snatching zombies from the Minecraft kingdom.
But all you want to do is warm a pew,
Comfortably standing your ground so no one else can get through.
Because, God forbid, you’d have to sit someplace else…
Maybe two seats left and four rows up
Where the sound’s just a tad bit louder…
Or a few rows back on the other side
Where the media screen is a hairline smaller.
And all you want to do is nod in agreement
When the pastor tells you how to make your life better…
Your situation brighter…
Your grass greener.
Never mind that drug addict neighbor
Who’s been needing you to share the Gospel with her…
To help make her life just a bit cleaner…
That paper pushing boss of yours who wreaks of insecurity
From an abuse that happened decades earlier.
Never mind the fact that 27 million people
Are stuck in modern day slavery,
When your bravery has the potential
Of rescuing many from their captivity.
And never mind that homeless panhandler who’s actually hungry.
You pass him up every single day on your way to lunch
Because you’ve already assumed he’s lying.
But keep on nodding…
Making yourself feel good that Christ is the answer to your problems.
Keep telling yourself that you’ll eventually get your epiphany
And become the bearer of solutions
So your unsaved friends can join the revolution.
And keep telling yourself that you’re an outstanding Christian.
See, before we can even think of being the solution,
We need to resolve in our arrogant religious little heads
That perhaps we’re part of the problem.
You’re part of the problem.
Are the problem.
Who choose to ignore the fact that we’re all of God’s children.
Who truly believe that sinners need to get clean
Before claiming the name Christian.
Who eventually excelled at shouting from your soapbox
But failed at listening.
Who are sitting in your pew offended by my criticism.
I’m talking about you…
Sitting in the sixth row, stage left, six bodies from the center aisle.
No, no. Not you.