and that if we kept quiet about them

they would disappear."

Robert Lynd

There was envy in the glances that a lovely woman cast

At the hairdo of her neighbor while the sacrament was passed.

And a teenage girl I noticed, though a timid lass and shy

Watched a youthful priest intently through the corner of her eye

As he sat behind the table where the water trays were spread.

She was not remembering Jesus, nor the things the Priest had said.

There was nothing reverential in the things the Cub Scout drew

On the pages of the hymnbook 'til the sacrament was through.

Not a thought of Jesus's passion entered careless Elders’ minds

As they whispered to each other and the girls they sat behind.

And the high priest's brow was furrowed as he stole a secret glance

At his checkbook's dismal story of his failures in finance.

There were hundreds in the chapel, but the worshippers were few,

And I couldn't help but wonder what the Lord himself would do.

I couldn't help but wonder what the Lord himself would say

Had He walked into a meeting where his Saints behaved that way.

Would His loving eyes be saddened? Would His countenance be grim?

While he there observed and listened to a meeting meant for him?