I spoke before your schools were built,
Before your boards were named;
Before men gathered into camps
And called their own acclaimed.
My pages told of Christ the Lord,
His cross, His empty grave;
I sent you out to preach His name—
For He alone can save.

You ask a man who taught him first,
Whose fellowship he claims;
You search his past for trusted men,
For recognized surnames.
But have you searched the words he speaks
Against the truth I bear?
A name can open many doors
While error enters there.

A college may prepare a mind;
A board may lend a hand;
A fellowship encourage those
Who serve in distant lands.
But none was ever crucified,
And none can cleanse a soul;
They serve the work entrusted them—
They must not take control.

I told of men who claimed their Paul,
While others claimed their own;
Their fondness for a servant’s name
Had seeds of envy sown.
You read their faults in black and white,
Then do the very same:
You build a wall around your friends
And give that wall My name.

You call it standing for the truth
When standing with your crowd;
Yet sins you would rebuke elsewhere
At home are still allowed.
The brother who would question them
Is warned to hold his peace;
And wounds grow deep beneath the words,
“We must protect the ministry.”

Do not enlist Me in your feud
Or make your pride My cause;
Do not defend a favored man
By setting down My laws.
The truth that tries another camp
Must search your own camp too;
You cannot rightly wield My sword
While hiding it from you.

Beyond the circle of your friends,
Beyond the names you know,
Are souls who have not heard of Christ—
And still I bid you go.
They do not need your rivalries,
Your quarrels over place;
They need the Saviour I reveal,
His pardon and His grace.

Will you rejoice when others reap
Where you have longed to sow?
Will you support a faithful man
Your leaders do not know?
Or must the harvest bear your stamp
Before you call it good?
Is Christ less worthy of your praise
Outside your brotherhood?

Hold fast the doctrine I have taught;
Let no man bargain truth.
But do not dress your preferences
In robes of sacred proof.
Love every brother Christ has bought;
Test all things by My light.
The size or standing of a camp
Can never make it right.

One day the meetings will be past,
The last report be read;
The titles men bestowed on men
Will rest among the dead.
The Lord will judge His servants then,
And all will stand made plain;
No board can give His “Well done” out,
No school can praise in His name.

So open Me with humbled hearts;
Let Me correct your ways.
Lift up the Christ of whom I speak,
And leave to Him the praise.
Let schools and boards be servants still,
Let fellowship be sweet;
But keep your conscience bound to truth,
Your place at Jesus’ feet.

This was shared by Matthew Furan, a missionary. I don’t know if he wrote it, but it was definitely worth sharing.