A Biblical Lament in Rhyme

O children of dust, why wield the iron rod,
And pour out suspicion instead of the blood?
The Lamb has been slain, His mercy your price—
Why hoard what He purchased at infinite cost?
He clothed you in garments of righteousness pure,
Yet you cast on your brother or sister a cloak of manure.
You count every fault with a critical eye,
While grace that redeemed you goes begging nearby.
Discernment is holy, a lamp from above,
A sword sharp with truth, ever tempered by love.
It sees the wolf coming in wool soft and white,
Yet prays for the sinner returning by night.
But toxic suspicion, that serpent of old,
Spins webs of division and fear from its hold.
It whispers in shadows, “Beware of them all,”
And turns tender mercy to vinegar gall.
“Judge not,” said the Master, “or judgment you’ll reap,”
The measure you give will be measured in heaps.
Yet you search hidden hearts that the Lord alone knows,
And pile heavy burdens where mercy should flow.
This is the Accuser’s most crafty device—
To dress up his shame in the robes of “discernment precise.”
He calls it wise caution; the saints bleed instead,
While love that should bind them lies wounded and dead.
Repent, ransomed people! Put on Christ’s own heart,
Who dined with the tax-man and touched the unclean.
Who looked on the fallen and spoke words of peace:
“Neither do I condemn—go and sin no more, cease.”
Let grace like a river flow out from the Stone,
Once smitten for sinners, now life-giving throne.
Wash clean every rust of suspicion and fear,
That the world may behold that His people are here.
Blessed is the soul who discerns yet extends
The same boundless mercy that heaven descends.
Unashamed they’ll stand when the Judge appears,
Clothed in the grace they have scattered for years.
But woe to the heart locked in bitter distrust—
It eats its own venom and turns into dust.
The door it refused to another extend,
Shall one day be shut when its own cry ascends.
Selah.