LADY LIBERTY

In 1903, seventeen years after the completion of the Statue of Liberty, this outstanding poem by Emma Lazarus was made into a bronze plaque and mounted on the pedestal of this New York City landmark. It reads -

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

The other day one of our ministry leaders told me that when trying to describe our church to someone, she said we're a Statue of Liberty kind of church. Then she quoted part of this poem - the last part of course - Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses ... the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Now I know how to describe us when I'm asked what kind of church we are. I'll carry the title with pride!

We're a Statue of Liberty kind of church!