Last Sunday, I voted to close the church not intentionally, nor maliciously but carelessly, lazily, indifferently, I voted.
I voted to close its doors that its witness and its testimony might be stopped.
I voted to close the open Bible the Bible that had been ours to help us through years of struggle and by blood of martyrs who died that we might have it to read.
I voted that children of the Sunday School no longer be taught the stories of the Bible and no longer lift their tiny voice in song.
I voted for the voice of the congregation to be stilled, and that they no longer sing in united praise.
I voted for missionaries of the church to be called home, every native worker supported by the church to stop preaching, every hospital, every school and every dispensary in it’s foreign missionary field to close.
I voted that every home missionary be abandoned, every influence for good & right & truth in our community to be curtailed & finally stopped.
I voted for the darkness of superstition, the degrading influence of sin, the blight of ignorance and the curse of selfish greed once again to settle their damning load on the shoulders of an overburdened world.
I voted for all this. For you see, I could have gone and I should have gone, but I didn’t. I stayed away from Church last Sunday.