Dearest church, body of Yahweh
You are counted upon to be
The bride of Christ, and yet somehow
You have lost sight of this ideal
And have come to worship standards
You impose on everyone else
Whether the fiercest perfection
Sought out by Old Testament law
Or an unwillingness to hear
The depths of one's identity
You are expecting each person
To be somebody they are not
How can you show the world God's love
If you refuse to treat people
Like people rather than cutouts
Everybody is imperfect
And exquisitely intricate
Nothing more should be expected
