Tuesday, October 13, 2020

Soft and cloying

 

2000 years

transmuting

into a religion of comfortable raised hands

and reassurance that I,

out of all humanity,

(you too, of course);

have a reserved place

in some imagined paradise.

Soft and cloying.


He spoke of sacrifice and love.

Painful, bleeding;

counter-cultural.

Counter-economical,

giving stuff away.

Of taking the rejection

and persecution.

And of dying.

Love for neighbour,

enemies, too.

With a ratbag foreigner

made the hero

of a story about love.

Baptism into death,

and the cup of suffering.

Families divided.


Not much that can be recognised

in this baptised into prosperity

fearful of strangers

it’s all about me

Sunday religion of happiness and satisfaction;

while the planet grows hotter,

the innocent are brutalised,

and the wealthy grow even fatter

and more obscene.


© Ken Rookes 2020

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