Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2274100-Tolerance-Conditional
Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #2274100
Sometimes it's the believers who give Religion a bad name...
And so it came to pass one day,
While sitting, waiting for the bus,
A group of Christians, born again,
Did spy me, thinking I did sin,
Because I read a book they shunned,
A study guide about Mormons.

Remorse and pity filled their hearts,
While I read on, a world apart
From all their talk and stratagems,
For they were on a mission now,
They had to help me see the light,
Before the city bus did come,
Upon which I would then alight.

Their first attempt, a clever one,
Was made by sending over a blonde.
A pretty girl, she caught my eye,
And made me wonder, what had I
To offer someone fair as she;
But then she asked the strangest thing:
“Are you a Mormon? To which I
Hope now alive for future dates,
Did answer the affirmative.

And then she thanked me and I turned
And watched her to her group return.
“Oh well”, I thought, “This wouldn’t be
The first time I’d been thus deceived.”
My luck with girls was slim, indeed.
And so I sat and I did read.

It wasn’t long before there came,
Another saint, my soul to save.
This time a guy, from that same group,
But different tactics he would use.
He started in by telling me.
I was “deceived, but could be free”
Of all the traps the Mormons laid
To snare my soul, make me a slave.

I told him that the God I knew
Was just like his, the very Same,
But “NO!” he said, “That cannot be,”
And so to prove his point, said he,
“I ask you this, Have you been saved?”

I thought a moment, then replied,
“Been saved from What, or Where, or Why?”
He looked upon me with a frown.
“The answer’s clear: You’re headed DOWN!”

Before I could reply, he said
A few more things to help me see
That I’d be damned for ‘ternity,
Thus to the hot place I would go,
Where souls are fried and lava flows,
If I continued to believe
In Joseph Smith and prophecy.

But by this time I’d had enough;
There’s only so much one can take,
When perfect strangers, armed with pride
And self-made virtue try to stride
All over things that they deride:
Those things I love, which have been proved
And burned into my heart and mind
By Light and Knowledge from Above.

Before the bus could take me ‘way
There were some things I had to say.
“So let me ask you, if I might,
Are you a Christian, am I right?”
He told me that most certainly
He was, and so I said “I see,
And now I’ll ask you, if I might,

Do you think God gave you the right
To try and tear apart my faith
In God and Christ and Charity?
Is that what Jesus used to do?
Is that what He would have you do?”

I guess it worked, cause I could see
Him drowning in uncertainty.
And then the blessed bus arrived.
I said goodbye, with no reply,

And as I rode back to my home
I thanked the Lord for miracles,
For strength to stand and speak the truth,
For tolerance, and most of all
For inspiration sent to me:
A Knowledge borne of Charity.
© Copyright 2022 daninidaho (daninidaho at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2274100-Tolerance-Conditional