Death of a Church


There is a little church on the corner of This Street and That.

It’s been there more years than anyone can recall.

There is a grumbling inside, a dark cloud of doom.

Folks say, “Do things our way or this church will fall.”


They don’t care how many years this building has stood,

About generations passed or yet to be.

They care about ego and doing things their way,

They stomp their feet, complain and refuse to see.


They judge people and ways different from their own.

Sabotage attempts to be fishers of men.

Refute the teachings, grace and love taught inside,

Turn God into god while still praying Amen.


Spout threats and make-believe truths to make their irk known.

Submission from oppression seals the church fate.

Parishioners too shocked to believe what they see.

How could their own be capable of such hate?


For some it’s internal hate, for others the world.

Some need attention, power, to be in control.

Others site tradition is the issue at hand.

Regardless, control of church became the goal.


Parishioners pray, take sides or leave the conflict.

I hear them ask questions, answers only God knows.

They think their church is love and embodies God’s grace,

Unchecked power taints good seeds, kills them, nothing grows.


Plot to get rid of the man in charge and succeed.

Rifts deepen, paranoia breeds, people search.

Where is God’s love? What should we do? Where should I turn?

The victors say, “Hey God, don’t mess with our church.”


If only things could be the way they were before.

But there is no such thing as the good old days.

What they miss; their blind ignorance and perceived bliss.

Preferring spoon fed faith, unquestioning ways.


Jesus said, love God, love all, judge not, spread the word.

Some folks in church say, love us, we are the boss.

Our way supersedes all; it’s our club and our rules.

Jesus is a has-been on an old rugged cross.


There was once a church on the corner of This Street and That.

It’s now a center, soup kitchen and a home.

No one fights over when to meet or who does what.

There is love, healing and a sign that reads, shalom

About Debbie Hill,

Wellness Counselor, Author, Photographer, Interested in living a balanced, compassion centered life, travel, spiritual/supernatural issues, history, all things Disney. If that's not eclectic, I don't know what is.

Posted on April 21, 2014, in Misc. and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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