Bucking Religious Tradition

God wasn’t in the crashing drums or squeaky, loud guitar.

He wasn’t in the microphone that set my ears ajar.

He wasn’t in the whirlwind of religious-sounding prayer,

Or the fancy pictures on the screen that they put there.

He wasn’t in the “Clap now,” “Stand now,” “Sit down in your chair.”


He wasn’t in the motions they commanded us to do

Or the bright thundering video announcements, not a few.

He wasn’t in the vain, robotic “Say this after me.”

He wasn’t in the flashy lights (I counted twenty-three).

He wasn’t in the fanfare or the sparkling pageantry.


The only place that I could find Him was upon one knee,

As I ignored the sights and sounds and worshiped fervently.

While listening to the message, I asked God for clarity,

And in the stillness of my heart, I heard Him speak to me.

“I want to share a meal with you. Now share a meal with me.”


And as the flashy lights faded into obscurity,

I closed my eyes and tuned my ears to heaven’s symphony

Which resonates the praises of the One who set us free.

The words upon the screen took on new meaning just for me

As I spent some time alone with Him in all simplicity.

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