Don Wildmon

AFA/AFR founder

March 2002 – G.A. Studdert-Kennedy was an English pastor who lived in the 19th and 20th centuries. He was also a poet of renown. He wrote a poem that I ran across years ago, but never see printed or used anymore. It is the kind of poem that we don’t want to see or hear. It makes many of us very uncomfortable. You see, it deals with one of the most common sins of our day – the sin of indifference. We humans have a way of not wanting to be reminded of our sins. We would rather dwell on the sins of others. Here is the poem.

When Jesus came to Golgotha they hanged Him on a tree, 
They drove great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary;
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were His wounds and deep, 
For those were crude and cruel days, the human flesh was cheap.

When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by, 
They never hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die; 
For men had grown more tender, and they would not give Him pain,
They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain.

Still Jesus cried, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” 
And still it rained the winter rain that drenched Him through and through; 
The crowds went home and left the streets without a soul to see, 
And Jesus crouched against a wall and cried for Calvary.

Indifference. Not caring. Jesus had something to say about that in the last book of the Bible. In writing to the Church in Laodicea he said: “I know you well – you are neither hot nor cold; I wish you were one or the other! But since you are merely lukewarm, I will spit you out of my mouth!”

Indifferent. Uncaring. Lukewarm. No, we don’t spit in His face. We don’t stab a sword into His side. We don’t stand and mock Him. We don’t do any of these things. We simply ignore Him. 

Let me close with these words from Marguerite Wilkinson, who was born the same year as Studdert-Kennedy but died one year earlier.

I never cut my neighbor’s throat; / My neighbor’s gold I never stole;
I never spoiled his house and land; / But God have mercy on my soul! 

For I am haunted night and day / By all the deeds I have not done;
O unattempted loveliness! / O costly valor never won!

We can make a difference. But only if we care.