"It is a picture of my bride, the Church: individuals who together form a spiritual city with a living river flowing through the middle, and on both shores trees growing with fruit that will heal the hurt and sorrows of the nations. And this city is always open, and each gate into it is made of a single pearl..." He opened one eye and looked at Mack. "That would be me!" He saw Mack's question and explained, "Pearls, Mack. The only precious stone made by pain, suffering and--finally--death."
"I get it. You are the way in, but--" Mack paused, searching for the right words. "You're talking about the church as this woman you're in love with; I'm pretty sure I haven't met her." He turned away slightly. "She's not the place I go on Sundays," Mack said more to himself, unsure if that was safe to say out loud.
"Mack, that's because you're only seeing the institution, a man-made system. That's not what I came to build. What I see are people and their live, a living breathing community of all those who love me, not building and programs."
Mack was a bit taken aback to hear Jesus talking about "church" this way, but then again, it didn't really surprise him. It was a relief. "So how do I become part of that church?" he asked. "This woman you seem to be so gaga over."
"It's simple, Mack." It's all about relationships and simply sharing life. What we are doing right now--just doing this--and being open and available to others around us. My church is all about people and life is all about relationships. You can't build it. It's my job and I'm actually pretty good at it."
~ The Shack, WM . Paul Young
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