When we write of praise and worship
Something stirs in others,
And strengthens faith within the hearts
Of our Christian brothers.
This is the mission of a church,
And many in God's fold,
The calling of the nurturer,
It's love that they uphold.
But Jesus didn't call us all
To serve within that flock.
He gave to some another path,
A more nomadic walk.
These are the souls who face the slings
Of those who don't believe.
Who take the arrows tipped with hate,
And wear them on their sleeve.
They field the questions skeptics ask,
When nurturers go mute.
They will stand against false doctrine,
None are above dispute.
For even Christians yield to pride,
And tell rather than share.
They can get so narcissistic,
It's more than some can bear.
We're encouraged to rebuke them,
To loudly call them out.
But most will simply walk away,
Too well-behaved to shout.
There's really nothing wrong with that.
They're on a different path.
But someone has to face man's scorn,
And overcome his wrath.
For wrath is not for fairytales.
We only hate what's real.
We don't direct our angst at myths.
To do so would reveal …
That there is more than meets the eye,
Concealed within their rage.
No other "gods" can bring this out,
Upon the public stage!
That's where they throw the gauntlet down,
With narcissistic pride.
And if no one can pick it up,
The Lord will be denied.
And so, God designates a few,
To stand against the fire.
Like Christ's Apostles often did,
When faced with pagan ire!
And all but John were put to death,
They tried but failed with him.
For any soul placed on this road
Could lose both life and limb.
These are the messengers of truth,
They bear a different cup.
They face the enemies of Christ,
And pick the gauntlet up.
This poem was a finalist in the October 2022 poetry contest