Working towards a violence-free world
BOOK OF LIFE
Angels ventured to earth last night,
In a beautiful beam
Of heavenly light
In their blissful arms
They held the lambs,
Slaughtered for food in all the lands
These angels arrived from heaven above,
To beg mankind,
For compassion and love.
To speak up for the lambs,
Millions and more,
Who endlessly trot through the heavenly door
From stained woolly coats,
Acres of blood untold,
Stretch from earth to heaven
Till they reach the fold
God will name all who create
This murder and strife
Scribing all of their names
In his "Judgement of Life"
The feeble tottering little feet
Of market driven woolly sheep
Go trotting into market square,
As Christians neither look or care.
For people carrying cuts of meat
Don't connect them to, the trotting feet,
Now locked up in their concrete pound,
The sheep watch Christians, homeward bound.
Next time you're in a market square
And see the sheep imprisoned there,
Glance into a pleading face,
Can you go home, and still say grace?
THE SAME SONG
An exhibition shows of Auschwitz
In a London museum where,
Folk whisper of humans in cattle trucks
But don't let your compassion stop there
Let your minds wander now to trucks
Holding cows and the lambs of God,
For slaughter goes on behind closed doors
Just as it always has.
At harvest festivals Christians give praise
Altars bearing our food uf life,
As they sing "All Things Bright and Beautiful"
Why do cattle trucks still roll at night?
God gave us animals to work with if we choose,
But this does not mean freedom to abuse.
All animals feel pain and fear
God created them and in His heart he holds them dear.
Spare a thought for the battery hen
imprisoned in a tiny cage by the greed of men.
She has no room to walk or open her wings Because her confinement more profit brings.
Jesus told us we must care for the weak ,
And animals have no voice to speak
Although over animals humans may rule
God meant us to treat them well and never be cruel.
So say a prayer for every exploited little life
n cramped conditions or in any form of strife
They spend their lives hidden from public view -
3ut remember - these are God's creatures too.
Pray for help, write a letter, see what you can do
Buy free-range if you can afford to,
Jse products which are cruelty-free,
Let's make a start with you and me!
As Christians don't you think we ought to care
About the quality of the water
And pollution of the air?
God made mankind stewards of the earth
And of everything that He has made,
So, of all people, we should value its true worth.
We cannot allow polluted food, water and air
To cause so many people to become ill
When Jesus told us for each other we must care.
Toxic chemicals man wasn't intended to inhale
But with responsible measures we could clean up
Before human health anymore should fail.
And how does God feel, do you think
When each day plants and creatures made by Him
Through human greed become extinct?
We must agree we have a duty
To try and stop the pollution and destruction
And preserve God's creation of beauty.
(On^seeing some sheep driven into town
one summer day)
Coming down the busy street
On little, tired, stumbling feet,
Here, 0 Christians, comes your meat.
Dusty, dirty - one is lame,
He is driven just the same,
Driven to his Gethsemane,
That you may have lamb chops for tea.
Mouths are open, parting wide;
You may see the tongues inside.
Tongues you may tomorrow eat,
Rejoice, 0 Christians, here is meat!
Elspeth Douglas Reid
The Wicket Gate
I drifted one night to the wicket gate
My guardian angel and me,
And enshrouded inside, full of heavenly grace
The beasts of the Earth welcomed me.
With eyes of love, and noble stance
They resided on infinite lea.
Their pitiful slaughter erased from their eyes
Just forgiveness for all to see.
For the butcher below holds the knife for us all,
Does that make us conscience free?
I often visit the wicket gate.
As I drift into heavenly sleep.
But those soulful eyes of the noble beast
Haunt my life, as they live in God's keep.
I am the. voice of the voiceless
Through me the dumb will speak,
Till the deaf world's ear be made to hear
The wrongs of the wordless weak
From Street, from cage and from kennel,
From stable and zoo, the wail
Of my tortured kin proclaim the sin
Of the mighty against the frail.
Oh, shame on the mothers of mortals
Who have not stopped to teach
Of the sorrow that lies in dear, dumb eyes
The sorrow that has no speech.
The same force formed the sparrow
That fashioned man the king;
The God of the whole gave a spark of soul
To furred and to feathered thing.
And I am my brother's keeper,
And I will fight his fight,
And speak the word for beast and bird,
Till the world shall set things right.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox