Remember the old nursery rhyme? The one that you would always do with your hands? Here is the church; here is the steeple; open the doors, and see all the people? I’ve come to believe that this is just how it is. The church is made up of us. Our hands. We are the church. We are the steeple. We are the doors and we are the people. No company, no institution, no pastor can tell us whether we’re in or out because it is us. You can choose the church or not—that’s up to you—but no one can choose for you. Because if you choose it, it already is you.
