The Church

You are the church.

I am the church.

And we simply do not end.

 

Though many, we are one in Christ.

A collective of strangers, misfits, and outcasts—

Now called family and heirs.

Those once far away, brought near by His Grace, only to be sent out again.

I am named by the Christ, the Rock indeed,

And the gates of Hell have not yet,

Nor will prevail against me.

 

The enemy persists even now, committed to his vow—

To steal, kill, and destroy.

He has attacked throughout time,

With sword, hate, and pride.

But I am standing still.

Because the I Am still stands, in me.

 

Birthed in wind and fire, and flaming tongue—

Born of a witness by the power of His spirit.

My foundation is ancient, built on

Apostles and prophets,

With Jesus Christ Himself,

my Chief Cornerstone.

Being built together daily,

with no use for walls—

I am a dwelling place for the Spirit of the Living God.

 

I am the Bride sanctified,

Declaring Christ crucified,

That God may be glorified in me.

I am the sheep to the Shepherd,

The branches to the Vine,

The laborers called to harvest.

I am sinners and saints.

The hands and feet of the last and least.

I am a servant and a royal priest.

 

Mine is a life that can’t be taken,

though every realm on earth be shaken.

Because I have already been buried in death.

No betrayer’s hand then,

No scheme of man now,

Can keep me in darkness or ruin.

Persecuted and chained, I may be—

But my Savior still holds the keys.

In Christ, I will rise to live in new life again.

 

I am commissioned and called,

Carrying the Good News to all.

I cannot be shamed or frightened into submission.

There is a Banner over me, for all the world to see.

He loves you too much to see me defeated.

—Happy Hearted Slave