The books they claimed that You did write,
Of great wisdom, they said, and deep insight,
These they declared were Your Word,
(Repeating what over aeons they’d heard).
In them, they said , You spoke Your mind,
Conveying Your message to all mankind.
To doubt this, they warned, was grave sin,
To Hell for this You might put us in.
For long decades all this I did believe
(Of Your gift of Reason taking leave).
Things their books said about You
I uncritically thought must be true.
But lately this began to dawn on me:
These books from You just can’t be,
Being ridden with lies and falsities,
Barbarisms and sheer inanities.
To me this is now amply clear:
These books that they made us fear
And blindly believe, with faith strong
Are full of claims most patently wrong,
And because of this I now clearly see
That these Your Word just cannot be.
I’ve also now come to realise,
Having seen through their lies,
That in order to hear from You
All that I've ever needed to do
Was to listen to You speak to me
Inside my own heart’s sanctuary.
Since in my heart You talk to me,
Conversing with great clarity,
There’s no need for me to ever look
For Your Word in this or that book.
Their claims I now firmly reject,
For with You I can directly connect,
With no need to think I really must
In some book of theirs blindly trust,
And fearing that if I did otherwise,
If I doubted their books’ many lies,
You’d be angry and send me to Hell
And there forever make me dwell.
Ah what a liberation, what great relief,
Delivered from the chains of false belief!
Oh how wonderful at last to be free!
Come, please celebrate this with me!
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