True Religion

Pure religion, and undefiled,

Before God and the Father,

Is this.

To visit the fatherless

And the widow in their affliction,

Not with words,

Not with banners,

But with presence.

No trumpet sounded,

No witness called,

Only hands that did not turn away

When no one else was watching.

Not the faith that speaks aloud,

Not the faith that counts its own,

But the one that walks the long way

And does not stand alone.

Pure religion, undefiled,

Before God and the Father,

Is this.

To keep himself unspotted

From the world,

Not by hiding,

Not by pride,

But by refusing the stain.

No cloak of virtue,

No borrowed light,

Just a life that does not bend

When bending would be easy.

No audience to impress,

No score to settle here,

Only what remains of you

When no one else is near.

Pure religion, undefiled,

Before God and the Father,

Is this.

It was never loud.

It was never cruel.

It was never for show.