I came across this poem that was posted here. How much I criticize you, my church, and yet how much I love you! You have made me suffer more than anyone, and yet I owe more to you than to anyone. I should like to see you destroyed, and yet I need your presence. You have given me much scandal, and yet you alone have made me understand holiness. Never in this world have I seen anything, more compromised, more false, yet never have I touched anything more pure, more generous or more beautiful. Countless times I have felt like slamming the door of my soul in your face— and yet, every night, I have prayed that I might die in your arms! No, I cannot be free of you, for I am one with you, even if not completely you. Then too, where would I go? To build another church? But I could not build one without the same defects, for they are my defects. And again, if I were to build another church, it would be my church, not Christ’s church. No. I am old enough. I know better. You all...