For some time, I have been disappointed in some of my Christian brethren, at the local church I attend, who are unwilling to even try to appreciate the great, historical heritage of ancient Christianity. These people are concerned only for what "Ma & Pa" said; or what old Granddad preached; or what Uncle Billy-Bob-Jim-Joe taught in Sunday school back in 1910. Their unwillingness to try to understand, much less love, the time and place in which Jesus lived on earth and ministered (and, likewise, the early Christians) had so confounded me as to begin to affect my personal piety. This poem, in metaphor, describes the workable solution: to treat them with courtesy, without entering into their ignorance, and to appreciate my own delights the more so in private.
The last line is meant to echo Luke 21:19.