The Artist Bible: Easter 預覽

"It is written, " he said to them, "My house will be called a house of prayer,' but you are making it 'a den of robbers.'" - Jesus

He entered the temple
Like a breath enters lungs
The room it inhaled
And filled with oxygen
His words turned to cords
And a cord to his tongue
The room it exhaled
And cleared out

He was less like a madman
And more a soft son
His actions were jealous
For his father's loved ones
So he drove out the sellers
He drove out the doves
He drove out with anger
He drove out with love

Our backs are bleeding
From his temple whip
Our churches empty
Our pockets picked
Now the poor and lonely
Are in our midst
Our temple cleared
For your worship

For we made profits off the prophets
Took worship to the market
We traded free grace for commodities
We bought our religion
At the cost of idolatry

Now he enters our churches
A cord lays on his thigh
He looks at our steeples
Like a camel at a needle's eye
So he draws back his wrist
To make room for his kingdom
Every time we replace
His praise for our income

Our backs are bleeding
From his temple whip
Our churches empty
Our pockets picked
Now the poor and lonely
Are in our midst
Our temple cleared
For your worship