Ephesians 5:11-12 (KJV)

And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them.
For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret.
We are not called to tolerance of night—
that gentle lie the age keeps whispering,
as if all darkness held some equal right,
as if the fruitless works deserved our pitying.
No. The Gospel speaks with sharper light:
Have nothing to do with barren deeds concealed,
but drag them out where truth can burn them white.
Expose them. Let the hidden shame be revealed.
For silence is a kind of slow consent,
a velvet chain that lets the poison spread.
The child of light was never meant to bend
before the fashionable lies we’re fed—
that every vice is private, every choice
a sacred lane no one should dare condemn.
Yet Paul still cries across two thousand years:
the things they do in secret, do not name,
for they are worse than speech can bear to hold.
Instead, stand firm. Let daylight do its work.
Where rot festers, bring the flame of bold
confrontation—love that does not shirk.
This is no hatred wearing mercy’s mask.
It is the surgeon’s cut that saves the limb,
the father’s warning before the fatal task,
the rescuer who drags the sleeper from the rim.
Arise, then. Walk as children of the day.
No truce with what devours and gives no life.
The Gospel calls us not to look away,
but to expose, reprove, and pierce with light—
until the darkness breaks beneath the light.
Will you expose it now—or join its night?