A hotel Bible-thumber

I'm thumbing through a Holy Bible by
A hotel suite crisp-white bed pillows laid
There, side by side with textured truth and lie,
A spread of golden sun and sham of jade.

Who was that god — that fiend — who killed the kids
Within the walls of Jericho? Who then
Spouts off a hateful book of laws, and rids
The land of all therein who do not bend?

But then — a contradicting text appears,
Which says "The old said that, but I say this."
Where now the one with wealth and power fears:
Make peace, not war, its lecturing insists.

I close the book that says that no one can
Be born again but still Republican.