Sunday Sermon

IT

At some point it touches (and usually damages) everyone,
regardless of race, faith, gender, orientation, age, culture, politics,
or any other label you might want to foist upon your fellow man.

We all know you can't make it happen, and you can't stop it from happening,
but still we dream about it, write about it, sing about it, make movies about it,
lie, cheat, steal, and kill for it,
create ceremonies to sanctify it,
buy shit to try and earn it,
wear shit to prove we have it,
feel sorry for those who can't get it,
and yet almost never willingly share it.

Some people describe it as endless, eternal, undying, selfless, patient, and kind.
Some old Jews once wrote that it doesn't envy or boast,
that it's not proud, or rude, or self-seeking, or easily angered, and it doesn't hold grudges.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres, and never fails.

More recently it's been called a drug, a monster, a battlefield, a religion, a fever, a fable, and nothing but a heartache;
they say it stinks, it's in the air, it's heaven sent, it's all you need, it's a crazy little thing, it's all around me,
it's like a heat wave, it's like a red red rose, it will find a way, it will conquer all, and it makes the world go 'round.

We all expect to have it, even though we agree that it's rare in its purest form.
We all think we're good at it, even though we all know people who aren't.
We covet it, even though there is an unlimited supply.
We market it, even though it's free.
We use it to incorrectly describe everything from Christ on the cross to pizza,
and we all want to think our own personal brand is the best shit around.