To each their own

I found God in a synagogue
surrounded by Jews galore
You found God just like a dog
with flea-ridden curs and more.
God flung down his grace
and wrapped me in faith.
God threw you a bone
but it was to late.
I turned to the light
you turned to the waste.
An ark and a gutter
it matters not.
Prayer can be found in each given lot.