Calling

Number 3 in Timms Times — a blogger’s view from 2014

A hymn in praise of religious or philosophical tolerance

I love all those who show, not tell, philosophy or faith,
Christians, Jews, or Muslims – any creed or race –
if goodness, truth and love are what they truly seek
with shining eyes and life, and respect for strong or weak.

A child, I had a line to God, calling every day,
On nightly knees, for all I loved, and others, I  would pray.
With shining eyes on Sundays, to church and school I went,
There, several hours, and my Dad’s shilling, in reverence I spent.
But with my sister dying, the world just wasn’t right –
I had to stay with relatives, and drink cocoa each night.
In bed, to God I said ‘I’ll call you soon, you’ll see.
But if you need me urgently, why don’t you just call me?’
God didn’t call me back; I waited for some years.
Though sad that he had gone, I never shed a tear.
Dad said to me ‘On Sundays you must go to church.
And any day you don’t go, you will start to hurt.’
He stayed at home – hypocrisy was all he showed to me.
Mum, loving and compassionate, showed Christianity.
When I left church and Sunday school, Mum said that Dad should see
I’d made my choice, like him, so he should leave me be.
But school said I must still love God and sing his praise each day.
I sang the hymns like pop songs, but spared no words to pray –
and suffered playground Christian louts who said I’d gone astray.
In time I came to realize that Godless life’s okay.
My personal truth, like his or hers, I need not share, it’s mine,
no longer fearing ‘godly’ folk who say I’m out of line.

I love all those who show, not tell, philosophy or faith,
Christians, Jews, or Muslims – any creed or race –
if goodness, truth and love are what they truly seek
with shining eyes and life, and respect for strong or weak.
 6 January 2014