Thoughts on Boston

First, you should read this:
http://theerstwhilephilistine.com/2013/04/16/a-letter-to-my-son/

Here is my offering:


You who were ready, breathing black and white,
To bid your condemnation and attack,
For reasons yet unknown--but never right:
Who outlasts God? Who saw him speak the night
Into existence--or create the light?

You who were bold, dared think your rotting stack
Of wrongs perceived outweighed the mercy seat,
Or feared, perhaps, the Judge had met defeat
So you must wear his robes, and justice mete;
You who despaired, then grasped at Heaven's power,
Who never numbered hairs nor clothed the flower--
Sparrows fell, you didn't see. He saw,
And mourned as He mourns now. You dared play God?

And yet, you're image-bearing, as were they
Whose lives you deemed your right to take away.
This common grace, incomprehensible,
Clings tighter than a limpet to a hull
And you can never more become a beast
Than Father, Holy Ghost, or Great High Priest.
So tremble you--and all who seek to hurt--
Forgetting Love, who never will desert
His ransomed children or still-wayward ones.
Creation groans. His day will quickly come.