Be the Church
By Paul Martin
No one will look his way from the benches
As he lives
his life in the trenches
He's dirty, unkempt and rough behind the ears
His body has aged way beyond its years
He
shivers in the cold windy air
While all the bench people sit and stare
Who will be the church in his life?
Who
will look him straight in the eye?
Who will show him the love of Christ?
Will we be the church that will
go to the street?
Will we be the hope to the poor and weak?
We have been called to go into the all world
To
be a light to every man, woman, boy and girl
How will they know Jesus if we stay in the pew
How will they learn
if we are stuck in Sunday school?
Will we be the church to this darken land
Will we surrender to God's master
plan?
She comes to worship with colors in her hair
Her gothic gear gains quite a stare
They do not
see the hurt behind her eyes
And do not notice her silent cries
She sits with her head titled to her chest
How
she longs to find a place to rest
Who will be the church in her life?
Who will look her straight in
the eye?
Who will show her the love of Christ?
Will we be the church that will go to the street?
Will
we be the hope to the poor and weak?
We have been called to go into all the world
To be a light to every man,
woman, boy and girl
How will they know Jesus if we stay in the pew
How will they learn if we are stuck in Sunday
school?
Will we be the church to this darken land
Will we surrender to God's master plan?
