I need a good Posada
Or a Palm Sunday march out and around.
Let’s have a parade for our patron saint
Or do the stations of the cross on the town.
Just don’t knock on my door and try to save me
Don’t go to the World Series boasting John 3:16
Don’t call my country the great Satan
And don’t tell me that my food is unclean.
So maybe we should worship behind closed doors.
When we come out:
I’ll wipe off my ashes,
He’ll take off his yarmulke,
She’ll pull off her veil.
No public processions
No baptizing in the rivers
No bowing to Mecca
No lamb’s blood on the doors
No pointless debates
No holy wars
Can we silence our hearts when they stir with joy and praise?
Or is sacrificing our sacrifices too great a cost?
What happens to a culture that hides its faith?
And what happens when all tradition is lost?