My previous posting has elicited much more response than I expected. I have been asked by at least two people for explanations that I have not had time to give in person, so I would like to offer comments here. Forgive me if they do not fully answer any questions you may have. The poem is actually one that I myself despise at times, and I am not exactly sure why I chose to post it. I dislike it not because of its provocative imagery, but because it is a weak poem. Its imagery is mixed, its rhyme schemes are sporadic, and its intent is obviously less than clear. Moreover, the poem represents unresolved emotions and complex issues that still leave me unsure.

I wrote it at a time when I worked for the church and felt poorly equipped as a vassal for that institution. My representation of the church seemed hypocritical because the church was my shallow tool and method for faking faith. The God that I had so zealously sought had already proved much less tangible than I expected, and my energetic rally became undirected despair similar to that of a passionate young lover, rejected for someone else's romance.

My wounds ran so terribly deep that my only possible hope for coping was to hide my folly and the personal and heinous rejection I felt from everyone - myself most paramount. I played the same roles I always had; the student, the leader, the ready missionary. But play acting was cheap and I knew how surface deep my facade truly was. The book of James tells us that faith without works is dead. Imagine the complexity and torment of works without faith! It was more than I could bare.

As I have said before, I never really stopped believing in the existence of God. The question that has become the unresolved issue of my life is of the character of God and goodness. The poem acknowledges the God that I do not know and the sense of prostituting my soul to an institution that helped me pretend that God was who I wanted God to be, rather than the source of pain torment of my secret life. It also acknowledges the useless masquerade the church would become as people discovered that God was not to be found in a pulpit.

The line that reads: "I will live like there is a heaven, I will live like there is no hell, for damnation is upon me, but Grace is as well," is the meat of what I was trying to say. It expresses the terrible fear that heaven, and heavens expectations, are real. It also expresses the futility of living in a way that tries to avoid hell. For hell is real and we are all in its grasp and under its dominion. Living as if there is no hell means knowing there is nothing I can do about it. Damnation is constantly and justly upon us all. And if we are to have any hope of any other fate it is completely exterior of ourselves and our actions. Free Grace means that God saves by His own desire and ability, no matter how noble or mired we may seem to be. Grace comes by Gods whims. The poem is an acknowledgement that there is nothing, good or bad, that I can do to influence Gods application of Grace.