The Church, The Church, the church, the church
how big and yet so small.
how powerful, and influencial, and untouchable, yet how hypocritical and unworthy.
How can the church boast?
Why would the church wish to look attractive and appealling to the world?
How can it hold up a fist full of polished Jesus?
How can the church justify the unjustifiable
and condemn the innocent?
When Jesus spoke to Peter about the rock and the church upon which it would be built, did he know how ugly it would look?
Did he know how expensive it would look?
Did he know?
And what if there were no buildings, only people, no artwork, only faces, no music only voices, no brochures only bibles, no pulpits only confessionals, no collections only gifts, no congregations, only families, no screens, no announcements, no programmes, no goals, no ladders to climb, no offices to inhabit, no priests, or pastors, only grandfathers and grandmothers, no saints only sinners, no noise, no applause, no grand hymns, only prayers and tears?
What if, for a moment we all had a sense of unworthiness, and beat our chest and cried silently, with heads bowed low, "God forgive me" ?
Would our prayers then be answered, would our sicknesses then be healed, would our enemies love us, would God join in our gatherings and sooth and forgive and recreate?
the church, the church, the people, the sinners,