This church is old:
It has been gutted and restored
It has been taken from religion
And given to science,
Art, history and youth.
Within ancient blocks of stone
The young gather
And yawn, and scribble
And read -
This is not a church for the blind
It is our minds, not our souls
That it nurtures
And gives a nightly feed.
I cannot feel Christ,
But rather something mightier;
I see no priest,
These books are steadier.
If God is present, he is
Humanity. In these four walls
Humanity flourishes, and God,
If he saw us,
Should look on with pride.
