Martha, May I Help You

Mary didnt know

That her baby boy
Would one day cross the border
Where religion goes
To destroy our sons and daughters?
Did she know that her baby boy
Was in Afro-American flesh, too
And when its done to the least of His
Weve smacked the face of God
Honey, did you know
That His robe would be
A cloth that covered sins we did not see
Such as witches and warlocks hiding
And abiding as long as they were
Hidden in the sanctuary
Did you know
That your baby boy
Remained hidden in a manger
At Christmas time and all would see
How silent believers became
With pagan worship and idolatry
Tell me, did you know
How His robe would hide
No more sins and be
A holy place we touch in ignorance
And still remain free
To be silent
bout such cruelty
But then who would imagine
Hed be
Saddled with so many burdens
Or that the Mercy Seat would reveal
A time capsule where ignorance was
seen
Destroying like it did, in history?
Tell me, did you know
His people were smelling like animals
In homelessness, while those with this
worlds treasures would be
Making fun of them and turn home to
luxury
As if Jesus was born in a manger
And mercilessness could be
Stankin that badly
And the stable left a stench to be

Forgotten as easy as money could be

Covering the stench of insufficient,
insufferable ignominy
Did you know
How much cruelty
Disguised itself as mercy
Or that our government could stand
And condone war as a means of liberty?
Or would dare say God Bless America
And omit Him from our Judicial System
As He calls His people to repentance
In this nation, continually?
How could she know
That His name would be
Blasphemed continually
Because oil prices would spill
Into pockets disgusted with poverty
Or that greed would not hide
An insufficient means
Of envying an inheritance that would be
Incorruptible, undefiled
But filled with a denial of His deity?
Did they know?
Well Martha didnt
But Mary would decree
That the whole thing stinketh
As long as Gods presence would be
In the flesh of mankind
And be silent bout such foolishness,
So Mary asked Martha, Well, May I
But Martha was much too busy
With rosary beads, bake sales, fish
dinners and in ministry
With a cross that was
Far too heavy to carry alone
But she decided it would be
One less job to do
So eventually Martha did see
That Mary was her friend and not her
enemy
In that, Mary chose not to hate
At the gate where beautiful would be
Knowing bout too much evil
Where Jezebel was seated, busy as hell
Working poor Martha to death, till
Jesus broke the spell
And Mary would decree
That HOLY was important
But only Jesus can make me holy!