The Lament of a Believer in Exile

So I was at Barnes and Noble picking up a book I had on hold, when I came across the book "Jesus for the Non-Religious" by John Shelby Spong. Sounded interesting so I started reading the preface, and wasn't sure about it, then I came to the prologue, a poem by the author entitled The Lament of a Believer in Exile:

Ah, Jesus!
   Where have you gone?
       When did we lose you?
Was it when we became so certain that we possessed you
   That we persecuted Jews,
       Excommunicated doubters,
           Burned Heretics,
               And used violence and war to achieve conversion?
Was it when out first-century images
   Collided with expanding knowledge?
Or when biblical scholars informed us that the Bible does
   Not really support what we once believed?
Was it when we watched your followers distorting people
   With guilt,
       Fear,
           Bigotry,
               Intolerance,
                   And anger?
Was it when we noticed that many who called you Lord
   And who read their Bibles regularly
       Also practiced slavery,
           Defended segregation,
               Approved lynching,
                   Abused children,
                       Diminished women,
                           And hated homosexuals?
Was it when we finally realized
   That the Jesus who promised abundant life
       Could not be the source of self-hatred,
           Or one who encourages us to grovel
               In life-destroying penitence?
Was it when it dawned on us that serving you would require
   The surrender of those security-building prejudices
       That masquerade as our sweet sicknesses?

We still yearn for you, Jesus, but we no longer know where
   To seek your presence.
Do we look for you in those churches that practice certainty?
Or are you hiding in those churches
   That so fear controversy that they make "unity" a god,
       And stand for so little that they die of boredom?
Can you ever be found in those churches that have
   Rejected the powerless and the marginalized,
       The lepers and the Samaritans of our day,
           Those you called out brothers and sisters?
Or must we now look for you outside ecclesiastical setting,
   Where love and kindness expect no reward,
       Where question are viewed as the deepest
           Expressions of trust?

Is it even possible, Jesus, that we Christians are the villains
  Who killed you?
        Smothering you underneath literal Bibles,
               Dated creeds,
                   Irrelevant doctrines,
                       And dying structures?
If these things are the source of your disapearance, Jesus,
  Will you then reemerge if these things are removed?
       Will that bring resurrection?
Or were you, as some now suggest, never more
   Than an illusion?
By burying and distorting you were we
   Simply protecting ourselves
       From having to face that realization?

I still seek to possess what I believe you are, Jesus:
   Access to and embodiment of
       The source of Love,
           The ground of Being,
               A doorway into the mystery of holiness.

It is through that doorway I desire to walk.
   Will you meet me there?
       Will you challenge me,
           Guide me,
               Confront me,
                   Reveal your truth to me and in me?

Finally, at the end of this journey, Jesus,
   Will you embrace me
       Inside the ultimate reality
           That I call God
               In whom I live
                   And move
                       And having my being?
For that, Jesus, is my goal in this book.

Thoughts?