There was once a man of stature
in a little country town
who had respect and admiration
from all those who lived around

For a strong admired leader 
of no small repute was he
whether at home or on the job
in his church and community

He cared for his own kin and 
gave to all generously
having attained a top position
in a well-known company

He gave service as a deacon 
in the little country church
and also shared his vocal talents 
from the choir's lofty perch

Everything was fine and happy 
in The Deacon's sunny life
A steady job, good kids in school, 
and a faithful, loving wife

But The Deacon tripped and fell 
into the mud one fateful day
and then found his high position 
very quickly stripped away

His family stood beside him 
as the day of trial passed
but the church could not forgive 
and remained utterly aghast

The choir members slandered
The board of deacons judged
The pastor found his church's 
reputation sorely smudged

In this tragic situation 
noone really seemed to care
about The Deacon they had stripped 
and left alone, naked, and bare

This church preached God's forgiveness
Its pastors sang of love
Its members gave lip service
to the grace from up above

But their own Deacon tarred-and-feathered
their own leader vilified
Not a difference from those
who their Messiah crucified

The church's building proved a morgue
in which the dead sang proud their songs
Sealed with hypocrisy that cannot
forgive their brothers' wrongs

A faith with no real power
when put hard to trial and test
can make no claims to be superior
or better than the rest

The Deacon moved away
leaving that dead crypt far behind
and in the process found 
perspective and a greater peace of mind