In my church I am one of the quiet radicals.
One of the three guys who helps make the food run
So the senior women can feed the poor –
No medal there, the poor distract us from our true theologies:
The things that distract from death, or wealth or power
Or countless images on countless screens
I can not count the ways.
Or how about trying to convince
Little old ladies to wear T shirts
To tell the world about our little patch of church?
Or being so strange to think
That that divorcee/teacher
Who loves the church as well as its children
Who serves my family and its family well
Who lives on the edge of financial oblivion
Might just be Jesus
Patching up our crumbling walls.
Only our Lord’s body died
Faith has it even his spirit
Occasionally can be found alive and well –
Sometimes, even in a church.
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