The Church at its Purest

The Church at Its Purest

Jesus never stormed the gates of government,

Never raised a fist to Caesar’s throne.

He knew the greatest power on Earth

Was not in Rome—but in the Church alone.

When the Church walks in purpose,

Rooted in identity, clothed in divine position,

No system of man, no empire of darkness

Can stand against its holy commission.

I once believed justice could be won

By chasing rights with flesh and fire.

But now I see the enemy’s game—

To shift the Church from Heaven’s desire.

He tempts us with noble causes,

Wrapped in ambition, dressed in pride.

But justice pursued like mere men

Leaves righteousness cast aside.

The Black Church cannot overthrow

The systems built in shadows deep

With tactics born of mortal minds—

That path will only sow and reap.

Only the Church, in its purest form,

Unshaken, Spirit-led, and bold,

Can tear down wickedness and reign

With power no government can hold.