In a world where whispers of faith should echo like thunder,
We find ourselves lost in a labyrinth of our own making,
Threads of belief tangled in the loom of our hearts,
Where once there was tapestry, now only tatters.
The cross, once a symbol of unity,
Now, like a fractured spine,
Bent under the weight of our division,
Splitting the body of faith into a thousand broken pieces.

We call it righteousness,
This insistence on our own interpretations,
But what is righteousness when it tears apart the very fabric it seeks to uphold?
We are but mirrors, reflecting pieces of the same divine light,
Yet we choose to see only the fractures,
Only the faults in the reflection of others.

We argue over the color of salvation,
The shape of grace, the sound of truth,
While the world burns at the edges,
Crying out for the love we claim to hold.
But love—true love—doesn’t divide, it multiplies.
It stretches out like the arms of the cross,
Wide enough to embrace the world,
Strong enough to hold our differences.

Yet here we are,
Waging wars with words sharper than swords,
Building walls with bricks of certainty,
As if certainty ever saved a soul.
We forget that the divine didn’t come to build walls,
But to tear them down,
To break bread with the outcast,
To wash the feet of those who walked away.

We’ve made idols of our opinions,
Golden calves of our interpretations,
And in our zeal, we’ve forgotten the heart of the message:
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Not as your doctrine, not as your theology,
But as yourself—
With all your flaws, your fears, your fragile humanity.

So where do we go from here,
In this maze of our own making?
Do we continue to wander,
Lost in the wilderness of our divisions,
Or do we turn back to the beginning,
To the simple, radical call of love?

The world watches us,
Not for our dogmas, but for our deeds.
It’s not our creeds that will heal the broken,
But our compassion,
Not our sermons that will save the lost,
But our service.

We are the body of the divine,
Not in fragments, but in fullness,
Not in uniformity, but in unity.
Let us be the light that guides,
The hands that heal,
The voice that speaks peace in a world of chaos.

For in the end,
We will not be judged by the sharpness of our theology,
But by the softness of our hearts.
Let us choose to be a people who love,
Even when it’s hard,
Even when it hurts,
For that is the way of the cross—
And the only way to truly follow the path of love.