I think this poem is self-explanatory. One of the things I'm passionate about is my detestation of legalism, and the self-righteousness that would rather condemn than understand ..
Grim Sabbatarians may claim
Damnation at the thought of it
But I, who wish a fairer name,
Would not walk as a hypocrite.
The log in my eye is immense
I know it, and do own it so
The pain is absolute, intense;
But I must hurt until it go.
I will not build a resting place
In my own self along the way
But I will learn to rest on grace
Whilst on the battlefield I stay.
My brothers are my heart’s delight
In all their fumbling brokenness
For they are holy in my sight
Despite their present dirtiness.
And we will in the lamplight sit
And wash each other from the day
And all the muddy hurt of it
And help each other on the way.
And not by shock or moral pride
Will we disown our circumstance
But hold the doors of mercy wide
And call each other to the dance.
And we shall dance with singing joy
Our lame and broken toes shall spin
To tread the measure of His love
Our only remedy for sin.