(The following is a poem-homilette is from July 4, 2014)
“Give me your tired, your poor”
These words have met so many
They speak of peace, and hope and love
They speak the words of Mercy
the huddled masses yearning to be free
who search a land of plenty
for things that help and mend and grow
for things that echo “Mercy”
Those wretched refuse teem ashore
all sinners in need of healing
a doctor's look, and touch and balm
a teacher's words of Mercy
“Send These, the homeless, tempest-tossed”
to Him Who sets them free
The loaves of stone, the tax of sin
He rights them with His Mercy
Our God lifts high His lamp of Love
His lamp, a Cross of glory
Our charge is simple; to follow Him
His charge: to give us Mercy
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