Mourn the Death of a Church

Mourn the death of a church

Whose eyes are upon the next land to conquer

When its children lay starving in the streets

 

Mourn the death of a church

Who seeks an Arian race of service

Leaving the less than perfect to the fire

 

Mourn the death of a church

Who hails love with condition

And ministry requiring slave like submission

 

An altar call or two

Knees are bent, tears are shed

But they won’t find a home

Alone they’re left for dead

 

A church on the move

With a great wake left behind

Just spiritual carnage

They wish to hide

 

The wounded of the past

Are piled so high

The shadow it creates

Makes them all blind

 

I love you my brother

Here’s a ministry load

If you can’t carry it

You’re not part of the fold

 

I love you my brother

But don’t get too close

We’re on a pedestal

Don’t disrupt the pose

 

I love you my brother

If you solely obey me

If God calls you elsewhere

May He devastate thee

 

Where is the mercy that God shed on us.

Where are the seekers of lost coins and sheep

Where is the compassion that won’t let them sleep

 

Where is Christ’s heart, if not in the church?

C.Moore 2003

 

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