Once upon a time there was a town with three
churches.
One was made of straw, one was made of sticks and one was made of
bricks.
The straw church had a lot of people attending it.
It was a pretty basic building but looked nice from the outside. The people
liked it because it those in charge said that everything was good and all you
had to do was come to it on a Sunday and God would look after you. The leaders
made rules and regulations and held meetings together but pretty much left people
to their own devices. From time to time wind blew through the straw, the
building rocked but because it didn’t fall down nobody worried too much.
The stick church was neither flash nor ugly. It
just was. It appeared nice and solid. The people in it worked hard for God.
Whenever a draft appeared they would cover over the hole with whatever was at
hand. The leaders worked hard and were good people but their time ended up
being spent on stopping the drafts. In the end the building became the
important object. God was important but Sunday took care of that.
The brick Church was an important church. A lot of
people attended it because it was important. The leaders made sure that
everything looked really nice and that everything ran smoothly. If problems arose,
nobody knew about them as they were dealt with behind the scenes by a few
people ‘in the know.’ This church was a proud church with proud arrogant
people. They knew God’s word, according to them, and theirs was the right way.
One day, a group of people from all three churches
met accidently. I think it was at Food for Thought or the Ten O’Clock Cookie
Company but may have been Strada or The Village Grinder. The hot choccy,
coffee, tea and scones went to their heads and they felt something like a wind
race around them. Some said that they even saw flames in the air. Others saw
and heard nothing but felt something in their hearts. They suddenly realised
that their straw church was slowly falling over, that the drafts in the stick
church were letting in a cold wind that was turning people away and that the
brick church had become drab and sad. They realised that very few people now
went to their churches. Oh, there were the old die-hards holding on to their
pet beliefs but they were getting to the stage where they were alone. Some had
tried new programs which burnt for a while but then flickered and went out.
They wondered what they could do. They had tried to work together but nothing
had come of it. They still stayed the same three little churches.
Then a quiet newcomer to the group who had been
sitting at an adjacent table spoke up.
“Why do you go to your Churches?” she asked.
“Because we are Christians,” was the reply. “We
praise God and do God’s work. We make Christ Visible in the Community.”
“I don’t see him,” she said and got up and left.
