Church (in honor of MLK, Jr.)
My (poor) attempt to articulate a view of church I believe holds promise for us to consider. I set it in suburbia, but you can adjust it for your own setting.
I
Have a Dream . . . er, well, a Picture, or at least a Hint, of What a Church
Should Be
(with grateful apologies to Martin Luther King, Jr.)
I see a gathering in a neighborhood,
folks of
every age and kind,
living,
loving, and longing
for
God’s kingdom to come
now
as it already is in heaven.
I see this gathering in their dozens,
(no great horde they),
living
small, slow, and in sync
with
the Spirit’s enabling of God’s will
for
human life.
Yeast in the loaf,
they influence
by presence and relationship,
living
their hearts in attitudes and actions
that
struggle and long for peace and justice
in
the sidewalks and crevices of everyday life.
Life and faith are one there.
They go
nowhere else to be religious
with
others they don’t share life.
Called
to be God in their place,
they
aim to live lives so freely and fully human
that
God can’t help but be seen among them.
Freely and fully human, you say?
Simplicity
and sharing mark all their ways.
Availability
to and liability for others hallmark
the
friendship they offer one and all.
They
meet in homes and halls, eat together often,
Digest
the Word in Spirit-led conversation,
pray
and fast for guidance and strength.
All human need is their concern,
for God
is a God of abundant life for all.
The
Living Word is the Bread of Life
for
now and then, for body and soul, for heart and mind.
Bearing
gifts, a bath and a meal, a touch and a tale,
they
invite all to belong and all who belong
they call to give all for others and
God’s kingdom.
Equipped with God’s armor,
they see
in the human face of opponents
hapless
people in bondage to false spirits and powers
of
violence and greed, victimizing others with their hurt and need.
They
stand with those thus burdened, with tears and with hope,
Forgiving,
reconciling, turning enemies to friends,
suffering,
and serving, portending the End.
They are
the church, this kind of folk,
honeycombed
through neighborhoods and communities,
not
ballyhooed by the media or much known by the powers,
doing
the “grunt work” of caring in life’s nooks and crannies.
They’re
the church I see, when to day dreams I turn.
But can
“they” become “us”? Can we be real?
Please God it be
so! Please God it be so!
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