NO BODY THERE

35. NO BODY THERE

 

Of thing most odd and strange to tell

I wish right here to sound the knell

Of saints I know who stay at home

To no church ever do they roam

Now be clear in what I paint

And don't mistake my class of saint

Suffers he no painful rift

Nor fails to go for want of lift

Hindered not by ice or snow

No age nor ailment does he show

By none of these from church is rent

But stays at home by firm intent

 

Tis not hard to see the draw

For Sunday Best is quite the chore

Nice to laugh at fog and frost

Stay in PJs at no cost

All he seeks in God’s whole House

Can still be his by click of mouse

Where late-comers can never rile

He easy mutes that bawling child

Plodding preacher holds no fear

For online stars he only hears

No sermon too dull or too long

None to warn the word is wrong

Easy come, easy cleave

None to care what he believes

And is it less real to break the Bread

Even when he’s still in bed?

 

But this from God’s Word I do recall

Not to forsake our meeting at all

How with zeal Paul urged to meet

So as to give and serve and greet

No chance would an apostle miss

To greet the saints with a holy kiss

To gather weekly in strong bands

To heal by prayer and lay on hands

To intercede, sing, pray, and wait

Be Christ in us, still incarnate

Be-ever-so smart your little phone

There are no ‘one anothers’ all alone

Staying at home we scarce can reap

Nor weep with all the saints that weep

Never to know kind hand or hug

Never pass round the coffee jug

No prayer, no smile, no festive fare

For truth to tell there’s no Body there.