First, Chesterton…

The World State

Oh, how I love Humanity,

With love so pure and pringlish,
And how I hate the horrid French,
Who never will be English!

The International Idea,
The largest and the clearest,
Is welding all the nations now,
Except the one that’s nearest.

This compromise has long been known,
This scheme of partial pardons,
In ethical societies
And small suburban gardens—

The villas and the chapels where
I learned with little labour
The way to love my fellow-man
And hate my next-door neighbour.

Now, Red Cardigan weighs in on a similar theme:

A Poem of Peace and Brotherhood

Oh, how I love the Catholic Church
With pure, damp fronds of hyssop–
And how I hate the Vat. II types,
Especially the bishops!

I wish for the reform’s reform
And pray for all the many,
But scorn the local parish priest,
And won’t give him a penny.

I show my charity each time
I write a scolding letter
That I’m ignored is proof that Father
Won’t try to be better.

My parish is too full of people
I’d kick out tomorrow;
Their faults drag my perfection down
Their follies are my sorrow.

Yet, still, I love the Catholic Church!
In her, all men are brothers!
(But only if they’re just like me:
She should toss out the others.)

If you “love the Church” but can’t stand 99% of her members, something is wrong. He who does not love his fellow parishioner whom he has seen cannot love “the Church” he has not seen.