I was hungry and you formed a humanities club to discuss my hunger. Thank you.

I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel to pray for my release. Nice.

I was naked and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance. What good did that do?

I was sick and you knelt and thanked God for your health. But I needed you.

I was homeless and you preached to me of the shelter of the love of God. I wish you had taken me home.

I was lonely and you left me alone to pray for me. Why didn't you stay?

You seem so holy, so close to God; but I am still very hungry, lonely, cold, and still in pain. Does it matter?

                                                                                                          Anonymous