The Voices We Will Not Hear (Reprise)

Alternate Title: 'We Are The Friends'

Previously Posted Here

Proposed Meditation: It is, in the end, all about love.

They are wrong.
They are so very wrong.
We can't hear their voice.

They call out to us - they say:
Isn't this injustice?
Isn't this torture?
Isn't this slavery?

But we can't hear.
We talk louder.
We talk about other things.
We talk about their failings;
We talk about their sin;
We talk about their error.

They sit in their ash-pits,
Covered with sin,
Covered with death,
Covered with sores,
Maligning righteousness,
Indicting the good we do,
Trying to pull us down with them.

They call out to us - they say:
Is this right?
Is this fair?
Is this justice?

But we won't hear;
Instead we talk about maintaining order,
We talk about helping others,
We talk about sharing,
We talk about becoming involved.

They moan on their death-beds accusingly,
They sigh from their cells,
Their deaths scream out to us,
Maligning righteousness,
Indicting good,
Trying to pull down God.

They call out to us - they say:
Would you want this?
Would you choose this?
Would you live this?

But we refuse to hear,
Instead we talk about precedent,
Instead we talk about independence,
Instead we talk about the needs of others,
We shift away so that they don't contaminate us.

They shuffle in their shackles frighteningly,
Occasionally they catch our eyes uncomfortably,
They abusively mention their lost children,
They truculently bring up their lost freedom,
Trying to make us feel sorry for what they deserved,
Trying to shift the argument,
Trying to unseat justice.

They call out to us - they say;
Would you do this to your friend?
Would you do this to a servant?
Do you still keep slaves?

But we won't hear;
We make up stories about them that might be true,
We talk about the rights of others,
We talk about how they cannot be trusted,

They are wrong.
They are so very wrong.
We can not hear their voice.

The Voices We Will Not Hear

Alternate Title: 'We Are The Friends'

They are wrong.
They are so very wrong.
We can't hear their voice.

They call out to us - they say:
Isn't this injustice?
Isn't this torture?
Isn't this slavery?

But we can't hear.
We talk louder.
We talk about other things.
We talk about their failings;
We talk about their sin;
We talk about their error.

They sit in their ash-pits,
Covered with sin,
Covered with death,
Covered with sores,
Maligning righteousness,
Indicting the good we do,
Trying to pull us down with them.

They call out to us - they say:
Is this right?
Is this fair?
Is this justice?

But we won't hear;
Instead we talk about maintaining order,
We talk about helping others,
We talk about sharing,
We talk about becoming involved.

They moan on their death-beds accusingly,
They sigh from their cells,
Their deaths scream out to us,
Maligning righteousness,
Indicting good,
Trying to pull down God.

They call out to us - they say:
Would you want this?
Would you choose this?
Would you live this?

But we refuse to hear,
Instead we talk about precedent,
Instead we talk about independence,
Instead we talk about the needs of others,
We shift away so that they don't contaminate us.

They shuffle in their shackles frighteningly,
Occasionally they catch our eyes uncomfortably,
They abusively mention their lost children,
They truculently bring up their lost freedom,
Trying to make us feel sorry for what they deserved,
Trying to shift the argument,
Trying to unseat justice.

They call out to us - they say;
Would you do this to your friend?
Would you do this to a servant?
Do you still keep slaves?

But we won't hear;
We make up stories about them that might be true,
We talk about the rights of others,
We talk about how they cannot be trusted,

They are wrong.
They are so very wrong.
We can not hear their voice.

Job Was A Good Man From Uz

Job was a good man from Uz,
Whose life caused a biblical buzz.
He was good as can be,
Steadfast as a tree.
And blessed in all things that he does.

His faith was quite pleasing to God,
But the Devil said ‘Isn’t it Odd?’
I think Job does what he should
‘Cuz his luck is all good.
If things went real sour, he’d curse God.

Well God said “I hear what you say,
That Job’s heart is as pliant as clay.
I think you are wrong
Job’s faith is quite strong
Go ahead, take Job’s blessings away.

Horrid Satan, that very same day
Took Job’s children and riches away.
But Job, though distraught,
Had faith, and he thought;
“The Lord giveth, and taketh away”.

Now the Devil got kind of hot
Things did not turn out like he thought.
But he thought he might
Still prove he was right
And prove ill Job whom Our Lord had wrought.

So Later - inside of a year,
Satan said to God; “Isn’t it queer
How to save their own skin,
The most righteous will sin -
Even Job whom you hold so dear.”

So God said “I see you imply,
That if Job thought that he might just die,
He would sin a whole lot,
-I think he would not,
But go on and give it a try.”

So Satan made Job really sick
Inflicted him with wounds, sores and ick.
From his foot to his head
Job wished he was dead
He was so sorely tried by ‘Ol Nick

Job’s wife didn’t do him much good
She said that she thought that he should
Curse his cruel God
That traitorous clod,
And if Job fell over dead, it’d be good.

But Job with a pious ‘Aum’
Uttered a brief Hebrew poem:
“God can’t only give good,
As you think he should,
Depart from me – with my Shalom.”

Then three friends of Job came to see
How Job still managed to be;
Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar
Came from near and from far
And sat next to Job, knee to knee.

They sat quiet with Job a long while
In true friendship – they showed some real style.
They said not a word,
They looked quite absurd,
With Job they were walking a mile.

Then Job spoke - cursed the day he was born.
His life he treated with scorn,
He wished he was dead,
Or died in birth instead,
His comfortable life was so torn.

Eliphaz, Zophar and Bildad
Gave the best advice that they had -
“Confess all your sin!
-This trouble you’re in,
Must be because you were bad.”

Then God showed up in a cloud,
With a wind and some thunder real loud;
Poor Job and his friends,
Feared that this was the end;
By the Almighty they were all quite cowed.

And God said; “This is not a dig;
But you all forget I’m quite big
Though I’m with you each day,
And I won’t go away,
For piety there is no ‘vig’.

By this speech faithful Job was impressed
Though his friends were rather distressed,
They’d all learned quite well,
That life can be like hell,
And the faithful are not always blessed.

Now Job, who had lost quite a lot,
Was restored – new children he got,
He got back his health,
And twice as much wealth,
And lots of grandkids to besot.

Now I hope that Job’s lesson is clear -
Not to hold things in this world too dear -
Don’t be quick to blame sin,
When folks fail to win.
Because trouble is always quite near.