"What faith have we?"

(The following is a poem-homily given on the memorial of St. Alphonsus Liguori, Friday Aug. 1, 2014)

What faith have we who stand around waiting for signs and trinkets?

What mighty deeds need we to comprehend the nature of our God and brother?
We cry by day and cringe at night in hope of some saccharin blanket
that keeps us warm and safe and free from this world's bother.

Yet when our native places face the truth of things; the bitterness and waste of sin

Yet if our houses are forced to see the the real of evil in things we do
We laugh to scorn or cringe with fear in dread of some aching deed
that needs from us the comfort and safety that this world is wielding.

For prophets speak the truth despite the doom that is acclaimed

For listeners get the brute demands of what the prophets present
We have the choice between the two: we belong to Christ the high priest
Who holds out truth to us that leaves us honored or shamed.

Will we have faith to move the mountains before us?

Or will our prideful chains allow the truth to offend us?

The truth is ours