SIGNS
the church
once upon a time
there was a man
who built a church
where he could go to worship God
and God could come to visit him
it was a beautiful church
very elaborate
very elegant
every detail perfect
the man made sure it was
for he was a very wealthy man
in those days
and that church saw
many vows made with God
many thanks
and soon
much tears
for the vows made
were not easy to keep
and the days for which a man's heart bursts with thanks
were few
and soon gone
today the church stands a ruin
of all that it once was
all that the man once dreamed that it could be
is it all ashes and rubble
as if a war has come
as if bombs have been dropped
as if God has turned His Face from it and no longer visits
the son whom He once loved?
not exactly
the man passes the doors
to confess his sins
each sin worse than the one before
for each day is darker
and he no longer sees the way
he no longer feels that God even cares
but God does care
in fact, He weeps over the church He dreams of
not mere stone and mortar, mind you
but over the man
over the ashes and rubble
of a life
unsaved by religion
of a dream
shattered
you see, God does not dwell
in modern times
in buildings made by men
He desires a different home
He desires your heart
He longs to touch the hurting
to heal the sick
to make the lame walk
the blind see
He longs to speak forgiveness
love
hope
He longs to once again walk this earth
in the flesh
a building is a building
however beautiful it may be
it is still stagnate
without life
without soul
without the full potential
to become the church He envisions
He wants you, Mel
all you see is ashes and rubble
all you feel is a ruin
even of what you once were
but God has a dream
it was a beautiful creation, you see
very elaborate
very precise
very elegant
unmatched
every detail perfect
He made sure that it was
after all
He is Perfection
and this was His creation
He can create nothing less
everything was exactly as He dreamed
the small hand fit within His and clasped His tightly just as He had hoped
they walked together daily
in the cool, sweet-scented garden
breath of His breath
a heart formed after His own
His special breathed-upon
image-bearing
perfect
creation
perfect, that is
except for one thing
love
history tells
of the betrayal
of the nails and spear
and crooked, twisted crown of thorns
of the spit and the flogging and the blasphemy
of the Blood and water flowing from the wounded side
of the cross
of the price
a fallen man would cost
and a loving God
would pay
to redeem him
why?
why, why, why?
I don't understand
why
why would a perfect God love us — us?
why would He come down from heaven
to walk this dirty, sin-torn, dying earth
for sick, lame, blind, demon-possessed wrecks?
I held the nail, too
that pierced His flesh
I thrust the spear
I broke His Heart
it doesn't make any sense
unless
you
can
see
the dream
that He sees
when He looks at the frail, weak, lifeless, hopeless, terrible ruin
known as Mel Gibson
a Church
alive
beautiful
very elaborate
very elegant
every detail perfect
the impossible made possible
for He is the Redeemer
of broken things
He still creates
beauty from dust
perfection from formless, lifeless clay
He still breathes upon men
He still walks this earth
He still heals
and mends
and sets free
and makes blind men see
and you are the church
He wants
your heart the place where He longs to dwell
you are filthy
and broken
unfit for a King
much like a stable
the place where He chose to be born
once upon a time
God formed you in the womb
and as He knit you together
as He breathed life into your tiny lungs
He dreamed
that this perfect little creation
who would someday betray Him
would know His Love
His Life
His Touch
His Healing
His Forgiveness
His Hope
His Dream
we pray you will
