Steeples welcome the down and out from every corner of life
Two wooden doors swing open to allow the masses to enter
A sanctuary sacred to those who went before us
As well as those yet to be born into a community of believers
While the invitation to share at his table is open to all
Somehow I detect a sanctimonious among those frozen in their pews
While your brother and sister stand on the corner asking for food
There are no doors to welcome them into God’s holy place
Yet believers drive by oblivious to the needs of their misery
Quick to drive to that place with large wooden doors that swing open
While the invitation to share at his table is open to all
Sometimes I see a people who are more concerned about pews
When your nation fights unpopular wars in foreign lands and at home
There is no common cup to bring people together and bind wounds
Yet there are those who confess to extending olive branches
Without demanding compliance with an ideology or theology
While the invitation to share at His table is open to all
Somewhere amidst our elitism we blind ourselves to common threads
Why do we use robes and steeples to shield us from life’s unfairness?
For we are too busy with church order that defines and dissects
Those who are different from us in language, color, culture, and gender
When exclusivity becomes the norm for those who praise the same God
While the invitation to share at his table is open to all
Sometimes I think steeples isolate God’s people from breaking bread
So what’s the answer to those who would condemn organized religion?
Perhaps we are too complacent to take a stand and show our devotion
The issue is not the pulpit or the steeple or the church membership
It’s our personal relationship with a God who humbles our pride
While the invitation to share at his table is open to all
It’s up to believers to open their homes and hearts to all God’s children
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