I dream of a church – Good news to the poor, Salt, light and so much more. Where worship is more than singing a song. This was quoted by Steve Dutfield last week in a lecture - it made me both smile and grimace! CHURCH I go to church and it’s a bore. Fewer and fewer darken its door. Twelve-stringed worship leader is in a right muddle, Wants all to know he’s part of the holy huddle. Gathered up like a blessed rugby scrum. Flute, tambourine and hell on drum, All stand up faces aglow Adjust the mic, check flies, good let’s go. I stand in church and it’s a chore. Described as a mother, described as a whore. Read scripture and pray for a while. Wait for that silence and twelve string’s knowing smile. Sing a song about ineffably sublime. I’m sure the writer put that in just to rhyme! Stand up, sit down, I wish he’d make up his mind. Bag comes round, I rummage but no money I find. I sit in church and look at the floor. While those around me begin to snore. I count brick and organ pipe. Open p...