What brought me to searching the internet - part 1

What brought me to searching the internet

In my first “welcoming” post, I wrote of what brought me to this point in my life and Spiritual journey - now let me tell you what brought me to the “blogosphere”…

As I said, we’ve tried to leave the Methodist Church for a long time, but God keeps leading us back “into battle.” It was a couple of those seeming “defeats” that began this trek. But, it began long before that...

In the early 90’s I was at the end of my rope. We’d had everything in our pulpits from mediocrity to apathy, to outright apostasy. I was sick of it, and I wrote the following poem.

The Death of a Church

The old man sat on the steps and wept
his body shook with grief.
The Church behind him was in disarray
I thought there had been a thief.

“We’ll call the police,” I gently said
trying to calm his fears.
But the old man just shook his head
and began to talk through his tears.

“I have in my hand, a notice,” he said,
“that was nailed upon the door.”
“Closed due to lack of interest”, it says,
“closed forevermore.”

I started to speak, but he raised his hand,
and motioned for me to sit.
Then the tale he told, sent chills up my spine
and scared me, I’ll have to admit.

“It could have happened to any church,”
he said with a heart-felt sigh.
“We all knew that things were bad,
but we never thought it would die.”

“You see, lots of people used to come to this church
we could have a good crowd Sunday morn.
And just mention a meal, why folks would come until
Gabriel blows his horn!

And the Spiritual food, at times too, was good.
We’ve been nourished with the Word.
Then why you ask has the church been closed?
I know it sounds absurd.

But it takes much more to build a Church
than one hour once a week,
but it seems so few were willing to work,
so few were willing to speak.

So few were willing to take a stand,
so few were willing to lead.
So few were willing to do the job,
and fill the church’s need.

Then the few, got fewer and fewer until,
none at all remained.
And though they had a choice,
none raised a voice,
and the door at last was chained.”

“I know what you’re thinking.” the old man said.
“We’re small, but we’ll never die.”
“I pray that it’s true, it doesn’t happen to you,
but when it does,
only “the few”
have a right
to cry.


Betty Newman © 1992


You see, I thought it would be apathy that closed the church. As I’ve often said “I’ve lived a sheltered life!” I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I’d see what we’re seeing in the church today… but I’m getting ahead of myself.


More tomorrow…

Betty