Religious Mania Poem by Mary Champion

(21st Century Style)

The way many people react to those whose views are not fully in accordance with their own (especially on social media) is reminiscent of medieval intolerance - when witches and heretics were hounded and burned at the stake for daring to question the prevailing orthodoxy. Now every man is his own witchfinder general. Hence this poem:

We have given up on God,
but still much troubled by the sin
of others and their trespassing.
No compassion for their mistakes,
every back must feel the rod
and be burdened until it breaks.

No minor wrong is ignored
and the scourging is merciless,
the flagellation relentless.
Youth or ignorance no excuse
there's an unforgiving horde
all armed with pitiless abuse.

The online pillory waits
with tri'l by social media.
No leper faced a barrier
as impenetrable as this,
locked outside the city gates
forever lost in the abyss.

We scream ‘Heretic! ' at those
whose minds are not the clones of ours,
while the baying mob empowers
the merciless hounding of all
non-conformists as our foes,
whose death agonies will enthral.

No crazed, medieval mob
was ever more terrifying
with their woken blood-lust crying
to sacrifice the errant soul.
Hate echoes in their heart's throb
as they abandon all control.

Although God has been outgrown
as a useless institution,
still, as part of the solution,
we need some Christ-like gentleness
to hold back the hail of stones
and to offer some forgiveness.