If there is no perversion of doctrine
So morally foul
Or dangerous in its consequences
As to disqualify a human soul
From that Heavenly Jerusalem
For having believed it
Or taught it to someone else—
If our every error is met
With but a wink
And a smile
And a nod
From the jovial Grandfather
In his heavenly rocking chair,
And dismissed as inescapable
For the toddlers
That we are,
Who could not possibly
Know better,
Nor justly be held to account for it—
Including even the things we
Get wrong on purpose
Because we do not like
The truth of every matter,
And how it might work out
If we were to let it be
What it is—
Then one has to wonder
At all the warnings
Once given
In those days
When prophets wrote
The words of God.
One must ask
Whether it was all a bluff.
And moreover,
One must ponder
Just what is the value
In going to live forever
With a lying God
Who does not
Mean what he says.
No, friends,
If we would pretend away
Such a disqualifying perversion,
Then we must also pretend away
An all-honest and all-knowing God.
And who needs a pretend religion, anyway?
