Organized religion is owned by man
Shaking every dime from you that they can
No doubt there’s a God for the evidence is apparent in the skies
But God is not restricted to a denomination or building, or human lies
One preacher scares the hell right out of his flock
The next is political and makes you place handbills for blocks
The other is full of gossip and lust that drives you out
My favorite is the church that collects your tithings so “they,” can take it to God for you...
Some teach you that your doomed because of your very next sin
But how is that true if Jesus died for ALL of them?
Many that read this will feel an insult or perhaps, hope
Don’t mean to offend, just using the mind, that God gave me
Can God operate outside of a church, I think yes, I would say
He’s pulled me out of, and through, some awful messes
Like when I was flat broke down to my last twenty
I saw some of His people, worse off than I
So I gave it to them
When I returned home straight away
Lain upon the ground where I parked
A crispy new 20 greeted me, it’s His way
Or what of the times when I avoided death inexplicably?
“Heard,” in my mind “stop walking,” just short of a door
And a blast of a 12 gauge shotgun did roar through the stoop
Many more times did he thwart my death, too many to revisit
There are many more, so for brevity’s sake, one more I will tell you, a point I will make
Arrested for shoplifting a ****** addict did find herself
She smelled of death and was ragged and missing teeth among the rotten
Ravaged by AIDS, for her death was near
The jail would not book her in spite of the charges
“Too close to death, they proclaimed,” take her and release her
I asked her if she knew her death was all but here
“Yes,” she replied, but the drugs I can’t quit, I am lost
Again, the voice came urging pray with her. Sit.
So I knelt down, her hand in mine, and prayed for her soul
Clearly a sinner, rare the church that would seek her
But God did search for the stray 1 after leaving the 99, how like Him
I am certain she’s with God, since she surely did die
To me, the church is the playground of the enemy of our souls
We have a better chance of seeking Him on our own than through men
I wouldn’t worry who you think you are, only taking account of your sins
You only recognize the presence of what the religious folk can’t admit
I’d rather be honest, be around sinners, than those with their airs
Jesus was outcast living among those the church would not dare
To those that are,”holy,” I warn you this way, be aware
You may find it very hot upon your last day.
How will you fare?