I found this anonymous poem that gave me pause, causing me to reflect on those who sacrifice so much to build for the future generations that which was and is so glorious in the past: our religious heritage. God bless those who participate in the building and growth of our church of St. Demetrios.
The sights, the sounds, the smells have been stripped from the church of my childhood years;
When did it happen, how was it done? Who precipitated my torrent of tears?
Who silenced the ringing bell in the belfry summoning us to worship;
Or its slow and steady, mournful toll ushering our last lone trip?
Who thwarted the voice of our Byzantine chanters mystically intoning spiritual union,
And distanced us from a traditional rite enhancing heavenly communion?
Who might yet douse the burning incense rising fragrantly in the air,
And steal yet more of our beautiful ritual liftin us from worldly care?
Who tore the community we once shared fracturing asunder,
And left us groping in the dark traversing through cacophonous thunder?
Who spawned the arrogance, the disrespect, leaving distrust and isolation,
And nurtured egos instead of love exalting our creation?
Lift not your voice and squelch your anger, progress is in the making!
Though hollow its ring and empty its sound, a kingdom on earth is for the taking.
Where are the leaders of years gone by who build the churches across the land,
Who toiled hard with little funds, but with humble heart and callused hand?
Let the bell ring, let the incense rise, let the chant rise to higher ground,
Let the church once more be filled throughout with the chant of Byzantine sound.
Above all else pray we might yet learn, without further hesitation,
“It’s not the love of power, but the power of love” that is our ultimate salvation.
Anonymous