Between the Pews, A Hue of Truth - A1
Verse 1
Sunday shoes and a preacher’s grin,
“God is love,” let the choir begin.
Then I opened up the Good Book’s page…
Felt like I’d stepped into a devil’s rage
Abraham climbed that alter’s hill,
Knife held high by Heaven’s will.
Then came, “Stop! It was just a test.”
I wonder… should God pass my ethical test?
Pre-Chorus
If my neighbor did these things,
Would we call him holy?
Or would twelve strangers find him guilty,
Hog-tie him, string him up to die.
Chorus
So tell me…
Where’s the line?
How did we allow this kind of justice to become divine?
God can Kill, Mass Murder!
Egypt, Sodom and Gomorrah
If power makes the rules,
Could I ever act that way?
We’re singing “Hallelujah,”
Hands up to the sky.
But I’ve got questions
No one likes.
Dance with me…
Think with me…
Maybe faith and doubt
Can both breathe.
Verse 2
Fire fell on Sodom’s streets,
Salt where someone’s wife once stood.
Egypt cried at morning light,
Firstborn gone before daylight.
Flood waters rose, the ark rode high
Mothers, Fathers, every kid all but the floaters died
Some call it judgment.
Some call it grace.
Egypt. Sodom. Gomorrah.
Really? Tell me to my face.
I’m still searching for that place.
I’m still searching to understand this kind of grace
How’s this not a dishonorable disgrace
Pre-Chorus
If a king did all of this,
History would not judge him kind
When Heaven wears the crown…
Do we judge it different?
Chorus
So tell me…
Where’s the line?
God can Kill, Mass Murder!
Egypt, Sodom and Gomorrah
How did such justice become divine?
If power makes the rules,
Could I ever act that way?
We’re singing “Hallelujah,”
Hands up to the sky.
But I’ve got questions
No one likes.
Dance with me…
Think with me…
Maybe faith and doubt
Can both breathe.
Bridge (half-time, then builds)
Maybe I’ve missed something.
Maybe I don’t see.
Maybe there’s a mercy
Hidden underneath.
Or maybe asking questions
Isn’t disbelief…
Maybe truth’s big enough
To survive me.
Final Chorus
So tell me…
Who’s to blame?
Are we different…
Or the same?
If we’re made
In God’s image,
What reflection should we be?
Love our enemies?
Turn the other cheek?
Or read the stories…
Then quietly with blind faith agree?
I’m still dancing.
Still listening.
Still asking.
Somewhere…
Between the pews
There must be
A better hew to this cruel truth.