The altar

What use is a church,
what use are religious people to me,
when the love of Christ,
I do not in them and in it see
and when they act like religious fanatics
as if they are here to be judge and jury
and have all the facts?

Even going so far in writing,
to dare me to act with destruction,
when it lies in my hands?

And I refrain from that kind of thing,
scared that somehow, some of their members,
are sincere followers of Jesus Christ,
whom I may also harm.

I take the Bible as the book, the only one
which spells out the gospel of my life,
gives explanations of the beyond
and shows the things to come
and every day in humility
I stand on my knees,
trying to make my heart
the altar of my own church.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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