Regarding Eldon Tenniswood or Dean Bruer or Dan Hilton or any one of 400 predatory ministers revealed so far… and for the thousands of victims and survivors who see the face of their abuser in the faces of the protected perpetrators still alive, unrepentant, dangerous, attending meetings, some still on convention platforms. And seemingly most of the not guilty ministry cannot separate themselves from those who are.
This is not my story per se, it is the story of thousands and I write it for them.
I see them on the platform one by one,
And his hand slid up my side where it should not be.
So clean cut in suits, so respected and upright appearing,
And I can smell his soap.
They speak about God and how great He is,
And his arm tightens around my skinny shoulders, clutching.
Preach, preacher man.
Tell us about freedom from sin.
And I am small and empty.
Tell us about love and God’s plan.
And I remember being alone, filled with premonition and dread.
Teach us about obedience and old testament kings.
And I leave my body as best I can.
Eat the glory of being lifted up.
And I’m filled with shame, disgust at being itself.
Lean forward in earnest self righteous fervor for God.
And I’ll sidle thro life one step at a time, wishing not to be me.
Stand up tall and so seemingly humble you ‘servant of God’.
While I wish to not be at all.
I remember the feel of his large body
I remember the sound of his voice
I remember his furtive pleasure
While I’m confused and have no words,
No way to understand what you make a crime of.
But – preach, preacher man.
Preach about hellfire and – hemlines?
Preach about eternity and – hair?
Preach about love for God and – sports?
Preach! Preach!
Preach about the narrow way (you say you’ve found it)
The chosen few (we all hope we are one)
God’s homeless ministry (we are so lucky)
And God not dwelling in temples made with hands (praise man we don’t have one).
Tell about television and worldly music
Tell about fashion and pride
Tell about makeup and plainness
So we can be Christ’s bride.
Teach us what it means to be a lamb
While the wolf parades on the platform
And many hirelings watch from each side.
You keep my secrets and I’ll not tell yours.
We’ll all put on the appearance of goodness
While Satan laughs and laughs at the great mockery he’s made.
I remember I was his favorite,
I remember how he’d press me to his side,
How I couldn’t play games any more,
Was awkward and ugly and numb inside.
But preach, beautiful Preacher/God-Made-Messiah-Man.
Tell us about mercy and grace and love.
Teach us about returning
About loosing of burdens
About loving your neighbor and yourself.
Tell us about the shepherd putting his life on the line for the lambs.
Of five wise – what does that mean?
Of oil in the vessel – que es eso?
Of treasure buried in an unnamed field of one’s unconscious mind
And joyously selling ALL – who would buy it?
My shame and blind, lame beliefs that halt my steps – who will take those?
Come, buy without money,
I’ll exchange your rags for a garment of praise.
Come, buy without gold,
Trade your lonely grief for a jig, a waltz, a dance of exultation!
I’ll wipe tears and give you much more.
Your tears of humiliation and grief
I ask for every one; they are mine,
I will dry each.
It happened to me.
Search for the wild God who measured the ocean in his hand,
Who cast up proud waves upon the sand – this far but no further He said.
This God who scattered the stars shining in the dark night above,
I saw them as I lay sleepless, weary and small.
Search for the gentle strong God
In the empty void of one’s dead broken beliefs
Where He moves, a Spirit on the face of the deep chaos waters,
This God who whispers about your soul having precious value
Equal to His own.
In Him I am.
By L. Gelaude
February 2025