Church Woman (Saint in Progress)

I don’t know much theology

The Rector is my source

And he is oh so studied

And helps me keep on course.

The Morning Prayer refreshing

And oft’ the bread and wine

And words rehearsed a lifetime

To tend a soul like mine.

I sew and wash bazaar goods

And visit frail shut-ins

And gather toys and children’s books

To counter-act my sins.

And Yule and Paschal colours

Adorn our church quite well

For seasons festive, Christ-filled

From age to age to tell.

But much is still a mystery

The saving part, I mean

The bloody rites, and Paul’s insights

Somehow cleaner than clean?

And scripture makes me tremble

I hardly pick it up

Once suffered, Confirmation

I’m trusting in the Cup.

It’s spiritual they tell me

God’s ways above all ours

But we can make it pleasant

With brilliant cards and flowers.

So hopeful that I tally

The sum of pardon’s price

But please, someone explain to me

That “finished work” of Christ?

(Hebrews chapters 9 and 10)


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