Pharisaical

I mourn the fire burning down the building
I decry the sculpted idols within the sanctuary
I cry out “persecution!” as the holy image is desecrated

Yet my words tear down when I am challenged
Yet my love is only conditionally shared
Yet I cling to my gifts as if only bestowed for my pleasure

My prideful behavior is contrary to Your Word
My recitation of Your prayer is lived as “my will be done”
My accumulating possessions reveal my true worship

Only Your fire must burn within me
Only Your hands must sculpt my heart
Only Your holy image must be my vision

So say you
So be holy for I the Lord am holy
So love your enemies and do good to those who persecute you

May no duplicity be found in me
May I see the heavens open
May I see angels ascend and descend on the Son of Man