Lord, it’s too late for you to be quiet, You have spoken too much; You have fought too much. You were not sensible, You know.  You exaggerated; it was bound to happen. You called the better people a breed of vipers.  You told them their hearts were black sepulchers with fine exteriors. You chose the decaying lepers, You spoke fearlessly with unacceptable strangers, You ate with notorious sinners, and You said streetwalkers would be the first in Paradise. You got on well with the poor, the bums, the crippled.  You belittled the religious regulations. Your interpretation of the Law reduced it to one little commandment;  To Love.
 
Now they are avenging themselves.  They have taken steps against You.  They have approached the authorities, and action will follow.
 
Lord, I know if I try to live a little like You, I shall be condemned.  I am afraid. They are already singling me out.  Some smile at me, others laugh, some are shocked, and several of my friends are about to drop me.  I am afraid to stop.  I am afraid to listen to men’s wisdom.  It whispers;  You must go forward little by little, everything can’t be taken literally, it’s better to come to terms with the adversary.
 
And yet, Lord, I know that You are right.  Help me to fight.  Help me to speak. Help me to live your Gospel to the end, to the folly of the Cross.