Within the temple of my worldly thought
The idols, mute but of imposing mien,
To which a daily sacrifice I brought,
Were ancient Baals in a modern scene.

Untouched by time they still are numberless:
Greed, fame, ambition, ease in matter—these
And scorn and hollow pride and the excess
Of love that clings to personalities.

And when the Christ light through the temple shone,
I woke from folly as men wake from dreams,
Released from fetters f too long had known,
And felt the touch that blesses and redeems.

The worshiped idols now could not appall,
For revolution in perception reigned.
Truth's devastating blow destroyed them all,
Of which no powdered fragment has remained.

To share my riches, joyously I bring
A message unto those who blindly plod:
An idol—this I learned—is anything
We love or cherish more than we love God.

Gibbs Hofmann

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Sandy Has a Healing of Ivy Poisoning
November 25, 1967

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