• Written by Jeremy Street

A humble Church, not even a steeple

Open the doors and see all the people

The type of folk you can see most places

Thankful smiles and tear-tracked faces

A saving grace in every heart...

But a nagging sense of lives apart

For we have thoughts we keep from healing

They can't be shown, they're not appealing

Best to keep them locked away

And hope they're gone by judgment day

This explains why contemplation

Degrades into evaluation

Why each one sees the other's error

And tells himself his heart is fairer

And though saved still sees his own damnation

Hiding in the congregation

And so we try to change each other

In hopes this change our fear will smother

Old school, New school with thoughts like swords

Aghast at what these move us towards

All praying for the Holy Spirit

But hardened hearts can hardly hear it

Is there a cure for this conceit?

The false joy I feel in being elite

And if there is will it also cure

The shame I feel for being impure?

I asked Jesus to help me see

And this is what he said to me

The key you're seeking to discover

The fact true seeking will uncover

True for father, mother, sister, brother

Including you and every other

Here even now but under cover

Is that you have the right to bless each other

This truth you had but chose to squander

And since then you've done naught but wander

You've sought a place where you're opinion

Could be like God and have dominion

But this idle wish can never be

And God calls "please come home to me."

The way to answer God's sweet call

Is to cease to judge by blessing all

And see the holy right you would revoke

You've merely hid with judgment's cloak

Now claim it back through its appeal

Claim it, use it, and watch it heal

Healing mind and body and every Nation

And when you're done you'll see Creation