Walls

There are walls in our church
Built not with stone or wood,
But instead with fear and selfishness.

There are walls in our church.
They block the view
Between you and me.
They keep out the light.
They create stale air
When what we really need
Is God's breath, blowing through the rooms.

I think these walls may be stronger
Than even though ones that hold up the roof.
They are load bearing
And if they are ever removed,
Preconceptions will fall.
The ceiling supported by these walls
Will come crashing to the ground,
And we'll finally realize that our possibilities
Are limitless.
When God's breath is felt.

There are walls in our church,
And the graffiti on them is telling.
I don't like the youth to play loud music.
Women should wear dresses,
and keep their seats.
You're sitting in my pew.
Stop clapping; it isn't right.
You shouldn't be here --
You are not what I want you to be,
and that makes you wrong.
Your ideas are too old.
Your ideas are to new.
We've always done it this way,
and that's the way I like it.

There are walls in our church.
They are built from building blocks
That are heavy
Crushing
They are mortared together with shoulds and oughts.
They stand on a shaky foundation.
These walls are so unstable
That it takes constant care
To keep them upright.
And yet they still stand.

There are walls in our church
Instead of leading us to love each other,
They wall us in; away from each other.
How can I shake your hand,
If there is a wall between us?

If there is any hope,
If we are to become a church
And not just a building full of walls,
Then we need to start demolition.

Pray with me
That God will blow down our walls,
So that His light will illuminate
Our darkest corners.
And we'll be able to feel
The breath of God
Blowing freely through our church.