Exiled, a stranger in a strange land with hope for life
But we have locked our doors to keep him out
For the life of the World unless an inconvenience
One in the image of God disallowed human decency at our action
Hands and feet of the Lord Jesus, lest it be easier to pretend the problem away

Now has come the time for our repentance;
Forgive us Father, for we have sinned
We have not loved our neighbor as ourself
Rather, we have loved ourselves and only ourselves
We are the sinners we pretend not to be

They come seeking refuge from terror and evil
We slam doors in their faces
They come hungry for food to eat
And we stuff our mouths full, claiming to have none
Can we really call ourselves People of the Lord?

They sit on the side of the road begging for  our spare change
And we pretend as if we are poorer than they
They freeze to death on the sidewalk
And we cross to the other side like the priest and Levite of old
Have we reason to call ourselves the hands and feet of Christ?

Mightn’t there come a day when we are hungry with no food to eat
Did the Lord not command us to feed the hungry, and give to the poor?
Have we shown the love of the Lord to even our closest neighbors?
Mightn’t we show love rather than fear, generosity rather than persecution
Else we might no longer rightfully call ourselves the People of the Lord