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!