I want to be clear about something before you read the below poem.  The true church can be found in America, but there are many impostors out there as well.  So many of our churches are lost and seeking American materialism over Christ.  We must preach the gospel to them in love.  We must also be truthful and not mistake the church for all of the buildings we see.  If a church is not gospel-centered, does not preach the Word, and in the end, is just as worldly as the local bar and grill, then it is not THE CHURCH.  It is a group of lost people that need to hear the gospel.  This poem is about the American church as a whole.  Rest assured, there are pockets of the true church doing amazing work in America.  And yet, we must realize now that America is now truly a missions field.  The overwhelming majority of Americans are unsaved.

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The American Church


Your Church was founded under the thumb of death’s solemn roar

Our church in America slumbers in the dark like never before

Your Church was built by martyrs persecuted in the dead of winter

Our American church is built by the deep pockets of greedy sinners

Your Church moves with grace and truth, not confined by walls

In America, we build huge palaces that look like shopping malls

Your Church moves with love to every forbidden and dangerous land

We in America take missions trips for only as long as we can stand

Your Church loves and obeys You, Your commands, seeks Your face

Yet in America, of You we can only find a mere fraction of a trace

Your Church consists of sinners who are “humble and contrite in spirit”

America seeks her best life now, seeking heaven through her own merit

Your Church sometimes stumbles, but repents and seeks You anew

This American imposter takes a mulligan and keeps You just out of view

Your Church preaches the gospel about Sinners in the Hands of an angry God

American Churches pervert Your love while evil observes to applaud

Your Church awaits her Bridegroom and with Him will conquer all

America will hear “I never knew you” and, “You did not follow my law.”

By Brian Dufala

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This poem can be redistributed and shared without hesitation, so long as proper credit is given for the work and so long as there is no charge for distributing, except to cover costs associated with distribution.

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