do we know what it means to be foolish?
to be last, not first?
to be scorned, ridiculed, mocked, because of something we believe?
no. we don’t. we blend too well. we build churches which appeal to hundreds of thousands. we’ve gotten rid of pews and put in lazy-boys and we think the pope is God and his decision is final. we wear our cross pendants and occasionally pray (never on our knees; that would hurt, knobby-ligaments on floor). we criticize the liberal, appear religious on sundays and mock those who outwardly sin. “i at least keep my sin under wraps!” we think.
have we forgotten about the pharisees? about Jesus’ contempt towards those who parade themselves?
have we forgotten his love for sinners? his love for those who realize they’ve screwed up?
yes, we have, in this cliche-wrapped christianity which will never save us. we’ve forgotten–Christ isn’t cool. He’s for losers. and only He can save us. the man in the gutters with the other discards. the man who hangs with the homeless, the drunks, the prostitutes, the homosexuals–anyone who’s an outcast. the man who loves everyone we despise.
so rather than assuming we deserve to have a say in global government; rather than getting all uppity about this law and that, shouldn’t we stay focused on the gutter? on the rejects? because we are, after all, one of them.
imperfect prose 
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