We change from day to day in intensity and fervor. We change from month to month and year to year in understanding, comprehension and opinion. One day we are a brick in the outer wall of the church, high up in the steeple where no one sees us closely yet we are closer to God in spirit than those who lie directly on the foundation of the building. A month later we have migrated to the doorway where we greet newcomers with outstretched hands. Those bricks on the outside face the world daily and serve in capacities of service and volunteerism. Inside the building the walls are composed of great formal worshipers who communicate in the Spirit with fire and passion, having more in common with Mary than Martha.
To look at the building is to see something alive – the walls vibrant and undulating – growing larger in times of war, shrinking in eras of peace – built on the unmovable foundation of the the only man to walk on a sea. It lives and breathes and changes its face yet never sways or collapses like structures in the city it occupies.
I am a brick today in the outer most part of the wall – hidden from view, supported by a buttress and away from the fine choruses and ministerial podiums. Alone, yet unalone, I serve simply to stand as a moral example, or spread a trifle charity, or shoulder a crying student with words of a biblical nature. Perhaps to just say, “God please help this person – and me.” Once I served as part of the podium but with little effect. God moved my brick to where it suited Him. I have little honor or recognition yet I am content. My responsibilities are few and simple – to love in action and shine just a little more light in a dingy world. I bring news of a man who defies natural law and death and promises us that we too will do the same. Some have never heard this message and it is my elementary task. I am the brick of the peasant today – perhaps spreading a single seed. Thank you Father for laying this brick so well.