What do I make of you, you so called christians?
Your declarations of love last no longer
than morning mist and predawn dew.
That's why I use prophets to shake you to attention,
why my words cut you to the quick:
To wake you up to my judgment
blazing like light.
I'm after love that lasts, not more religion.
I want you to know God, not go to more prayer meetings.
You broke the covenant—just like Adam!
You broke faith with me—ungrateful wretches!
The whole country has become Crime City—
blood on the sidewalks, blood on the streets.
It used to be robbers who mugged pedestrians.
Now it's gangs of ministers and priests
Assaulting worshipers on their way to Obedience.
Nothing is sacred to them.
I saw a shocking thing in the country called the United States:
My minister worshiping in a religious whorehouse,
and the congregation in the mud right there with him.
You're as bad as the worst of them, Church.
You've been sowing wild oats. Now it's harvest time."
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(based on Hosea 6:4-11 from The Message)
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