The Church Atop a Fence

You’d not believe that there could be
A church upon a fence.
But that’s indeed what I saw once,
And ain’t forgot it since!

A fella had to climb the fence
To get up to the door.
And once inside, choose left or right
So’s neither had the more.

And I confess, I climbed inside
To visit for a while—
To spy on how the church could be
So balanced ‘crost its aisle.

And they would talk of Heaven there
And also talk of Hell,
But if they much preferred the one,
I’m not sure I could tell.

I mean, they talk talked of Heaven like
It’s sure the place to be,
But harbored many evils like
They loved Hell equally.

And though the most were smiling and
Seemed glad enough at first,
I sensed at length they were on edge—
And some about to burst!

But most had learned to manage and
To keep themselves in check,
Not asking many questions lest
They cause an utter wreck.

For they had learned the balance of
Not caring very much,
And questions had a way of shifting
Hearts and minds and such.

So any strong conviction such
As love and hatred are—
Or right and wrong—or good and bad—
Could coax them out too far.

And so they hated any change,
For such might rock their boat.
And all they really wanted was
To rest a while and float.

For God had set their souls onto
This embattled Earth,
Yet they would rather skip the fight
And spend their days in mirth.

But as for me, I’ve figured out that
I must give my all—
My heart and mind and soul and strength—
For this I heard him call.

So I could not stay with them in
That church atop a fence,
But they’re still going at it,
Staying balanced ever since.

And I do sometimes wonder what
They’ll think as each moves on
To meet the Lord in person at
His righteous, heav’nly home—

For he will tell them bluntly that
He has no balanced bride,
And there’s no church atop a fence
Where they can run and hide.

Leave a Reply