The gravel and rocks beneath his feet
Signifies the approach of his most dreaded fear
The white steeple towers over one and all
As he trots up the steps to the house of the savior

Rows of elongated pews await the young man
While the walls of the sanctuary
Adorned with images of the most exalted one
Seem to cave in on him with each passive step

Tentatively sitting in the fourth row
His Sunday garb pressed & polished
Fails to defend him from the stares
Of eyes who deem him unworthy of The Lord’s grace

Voices of his awesome glory ring on high
With each sway of the choir’s jubilant praise
Yet these words of prayer fall on muted ears
As his head falls silently in misplaced shame

The one given the gift of worship
Approaches the pulpit to engulf the congregation
In testaments of His mighty will and power
Along with His disdain for the wicked and abominable
His shoulders slump deeper into the wood & velvet
As his fate, so it seems, falls deeper into the devil’s palm
With every word the pastor may utter
His soul, so he believes, is further destined for the pit of hell

The heavenly chorus announces the arrival
Of a tradition ever sacred and pure
As one and all rises to approach the front
The words of the hour: “Do This in Remembrance of Me”

He takes the sullen cracker in his hand
As he feels his spirit sink deeper into despair
Tears fall into the communion wine
The very blood that was to save him
Yet despises his being

The sermon rings in his ear
Like the incessant ringing of a thousand bells
God’s very word casting shadows on his heart
As he recollects the words in his dismayed mind
The words of Romans 1:26