Dear Poet - Short version

Forgive me if

I didn't applaud just then

at the end of your poem

when the others did.

For while I love a scathing diatribe

as much as the next guy

the one delivered just now,

it was about me.

"No, it wasn't about you, Christopher.  Just... people like you… the really religious ones... The Jesus people, you know... the born agains."

OH.

You mean those who blindly accept pedophile clergy as holy men, would love to legislate your reproductive system, and aim to pry the wedding ring off your gay finger.

Those whom, it would seem,

all invented slavery, spurred the holocaust, burned the rain forests, and kicked your puppy.

Yes.

That's exactly what we do.

That, and the pork and bean suppers.

People like me are the ones always quoting the Bible like it's

the Word of God or something.

Who dare to believe that absolute truth
comes from a divinely inspired scripture

rather than (as we all know it does) your 3 minute slam poem

We embrace the idea of being "born again."

It's not weird.
You're a poet. It's a metaphor.
If we called ourselves "Phoenix rising from the ashes" believers
it would mean the same thing!
And then maybe certain mediocre poets would stop
using that one quite so much.

And the way we all apparently

"shove our religion down your throats"

Always that phrase to talk about faith,

never militant veganism, recycling, or tax policy.

I wonder why.

The funny thing, though,

is that "people like me"

are usually too intimidated by "people like you"

to do much more than mention God in the first place.

You speak of the Bible as a hate book
because of two verses in Leviticus,
as though no one reads the rest of it.

Jesus did not come for condemnation.

He stopped a stoning.

Drew a line in the sand.

Said, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,"

reserved His harsh words

only for the holier-than-thou.

He said, "I am the good shepherd.  I know my sheep."

Told us to care for the orphan and the widow.

To the weak and the sinners, He said,

"Follow me. I'm going to your house."

These are the teachings that "people like me" will follow.

That spurred the abolitionists,

The pacifists,

Mother Theresa, Doctor King,

Who did justice,

loved mercy,

and walked humbly with their God.

Do not lump them in with those who have worn the cross like sheep's clothing.

There are always those,

notorious and vile,

spouting their venom

and waving their ridiculous signs.

But there will always be more gentle sheep than wolves.

You make me unwelcome,

Blast my faith in public without remorse
and enjoy the applause.
Forgive me if I don't join in.
And please,

Before painting “people like me”

As the eternal oppressor,

do me a favor.

Look at your face in the mirror

for just a moment.

Watch it.

Listen

as a simple statement escapes my lips.

"I am a follower of Jesus Christ."

Watch the way your lip curls into a tsk,

You're doing it,

I see it every time.

 

Listen to that.

Hear the disgruntled sigh that issues from your chest

even now

as you think,

"is this poem over yet?"

No, it isn't.