Hear the Outsiders’ Cry

Stop stepping on my toes. Remove your sandal from my face!

Where in this smelly court can someone catch a glimpse of grace?

The blind guy holds his ears. The deaf man’s hungry as a bear.

Does anybody have a scrap of bread they’d care to share?


This ragged guy is begging. He could use some brand-new clothes.

By clothes he doesn’t mean some burglar’s worn-out pantyhose.

But not even a burglar passing by will give him aid.

The crowd’s too packed. The line’s too long. The price he has not paid.


The sounds of bleating sheep and lowing cattle we have heard.

A dove is cooing sadly. I feel sorry for the bird.

Amid the shouts and clanging coins, I fear my plight is sealed.

Inside this zoo there’s no place for the lame man to be healed.


The less well-off among us languish, lost among the noise.

Bewildered and frustrated, how can we maintain our poise?

But what is this? I see a man wielding a whip of cords.

He’s knocking down the tables of those money-changing lords.


“Stop stealing from My people in the name of sacrifice!

This court is called a house of prayer. It’s not for merchandise!”

The insiders must yield now as he chases them away.

For us outsiders, this has been an interesting day.


The dust has cleared. Now finally, it seems I’ll get my chance.

The Master’s looking my way. Slowly toward him I advance.

Just two blind men ahead of me, and now I’m getting healed.

With no pain to distract me, I see God’s goodness revealed.


It truly is amazing! But then, what can God not do

If we will set aside the problems over which we stew,

and let him cast the “money-changers” out of our own house,

Instead of blaming some old family friend, burglar or spouse?






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