Fred Phelps Dies Westboro Baptist Too?

    When a poet reaches the winter of his life, he has been exposed to a blizzard of lessons, teachings, suggestions, morals, manners, social graces, and all sorts of images that make it easier to function in the chaos we often find in our society. One lesson learned very early in life is not to attack a person's religion and do not attack any that person during his memorial services attended by grieving friends and family--No one should be filled with such ego to presume that that person has the moral high ground to pass judgment and even more basic--such activities are in the poorest of taste and are a disgrace to the human race.
     In Fred Phelps' case that restraint is a difficult proposition. Fred Phelps who died at 84 was the founder of the Westboro  Baptist Church in 1995 and gained "notoriety" for picketing funerals of gay and lesbians complete with placards condemning their lifestyle and intoning that their death was proper punishment from God. I can only imagine the pain and anger of family, partners, or friends to have him or one of his parishioners show up to disrupt a funeral and I commend those suffering from his antics for their own restraint.
     The image of Christ speaking to those about to stone a prostitute to death immediately came to me which prompted this poem. Maybe in death Fred Phelps can become the poster child for how civilized people do not behave. Far be from me to judge this man or his beliefs only wish his soul finds relief from the pain that he must has felt to without quarter and without decency wage a one church jihad on lesbian, gay, bi, and transgender community. The comments I have seen on his death are pretty brutal. He is facing the only Judge worth going before as I type.  He does not my opinion of what Phelps' fate should be. Way above my pay grade.
Fred Phelps Dies; Westboro Baptist Too?

All of us are taking space on this planet with but a short term lease

Terms known only to the thief of the night who says it now will cease

Those of us who believe in a God know he listens to all who to Him will seek

The rich, the poor, regardless of race or creed, the strong and the weak

No matter how devout a man can proclaim

Who among us has a right to judge in His name?

Who among us has a monopoly on His words to us repeat?

To judge who among us should be tossed, the rest kept as wheat?

Fred Phelps has received his eviction notice and has died

Not a time for his death to applaud though his preachings of hate to deride 

Only one Judge now awaits for the fate of his soul to decide

In judgment whether more worthy to unite or seek to expel and divide

As memories of hate and bias will in short order among us subside

Those of us still here should not cheer his death; such acts His teachings belied

Better to follow His teachings of dropping to the grounds any stones

For all of us are not perfect, we have some failings we need to atone.

© March 20, 2014 Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet