Church, known by society
As a building built
With barricades of
Brickwalls busted up to
The brink, at times
Reflecting the tower of Babel
All the while the church halls
Echo in fables.
Jesus shed blood for our
Stained glass windows
Portraying Michael Angelo portraits.
We are anxious to wash
His blood stain, not knowing
His blood is what sustains us
In our times of trouble.
Jesus walked thousands of miles
Teaching hundreds of thousands
Stuck in spiritual exile.
Reaching out to the rich, poor, sick,
Destitute souls who needed the
Church to come to them,
Yet we stay woke in our comfortability.
Ecclesia, ‘To call out’ we are called out like
The church of Acts to speak louder
Than words. A call of duty beyond the
Modern warfare and black ops of our generation.
A church on a mission impossible
But made possible through Him.
We are weapons of mass production,
Producing more for him than the destruction
We sought to grim reaper out of this earth.
We are more than just a building,
More than a once a week gathering.
Peter said it perfectly.
You yourselves are
Being built like living stones
Into a spiritual temple.
No one grows much
Sitting on the benches.
Church is where our feet go.
I’ll see you in the trenches.
POET: Janice Fereti, @mustardseedbooks