They quote the Pope with trembling grace,
Yet miss the fire behind the face.
If you call yourself Christian true,
Help the thirsty, hungry too—
To turn away is sin, he said,
When need and fear go underfed.

Yes, let the refugee be known,
The shattered soul, the far-from-home.
Let mercy open every door
Where hearts seek peace and nothing more.
But mercy is not blind or weak,
Nor soft on wolves who hunt the meek.

For even Christ, with healing hands,
Drew lines the just must understand:
To those who came with pure intent,
He gave his grace, his Spirit lent.
Yet Pharisees with hardened eyes,
He named as whitewashed tombs of lies.

He flipped the tables, raised the cry
Where greed and falsehood multiplied.
And to the woman scorned by shame,
He offered peace—then charged her name:
“Go now and sin no more,” he said,
Not “All is well, go on ahead.”

He turned from kin when they conspired,
And faced the mob with truth, not ire.
He hung beside both thief and brute,
One heart repents, the other mute.
Both paid the price, but only one
Was promised life by the Son.

Yes, grace is free—but not without
A turning soul, a casting out
Of evil cloaked in human form
That comes not poor, but to deform.
Some come to build; some come to break—
To harm, enslave, deceive, and take.

Let mercy flow like endless rain
For those who flee, who walk in pain.
But justice walks the road with grace—
For truth is mercy’s rightful place.
No hypocrite, the Christ we know,
He bore the cross, and told us so.