By Reuben Kachala
O Church of Christ, you shining bride,
Clothed in light, once crucified.
Redeemed by blood, called to proclaim—
*Have you forgotten your Husband’s name?*
For He, the Lamb with nail-pierced hands,
Declared His worth in every land.
He made a vow, a promise bold:
*“All nations shall My glory hold.”*
From Abraham’s seed, the Word took flight,
To bless all peoples with saving light.
Through Moses, David, prophet’s pen,
*He spoke His heart: “All tribes, all men.”*
Yet today He waits… waits still,
For hearts to burn, for hands to will.
His great ambition unfulfilled—
*The task remains, the world stands still.*
O Church, hear now the voice of flame—
A summons not to play, but claim.
The Great Commission still undone,
*The Harvest waits beneath the sun.*
Six billion souls have heard His Name,
And lifted high the Savior’s fame.
But two billion more still walk in night,
*Untouched by Gospel, lost from sight.*
They live in lands where none have gone,
Where Jesus’ name is yet unknown.
No church to call, no praise to sing,
*No cross, no Christ, no risen King.*
Frontier People Groups—obscure,
Yet two billion lost, of this be sure.
Five thousand peoples, waiting still,
*For just one soul to do His will.*
O Church, what have we done with grace?
Have we kept it locked in just one place?
While 1% go to those unreached,
*The rest stay home where pulpits preach.*
We staff our teams with media pros,
We plant our churches row by row.
We fund our bands, our concerts grand,
*But neglect the unreached in distant land.*
We disciple those already found,
Yet leave the lost in foreign ground.
We’ve built our empires, carved our pews—
*But left the unreached with no Good News.*
What is this Great Imbalance now?
*The time to shift, to act, is now.*
Malawi’s cry, Brazil’s alarm,
From China’s house to Kenya’s farm.
From India’s call to Europe’s shore,
*“Let us send! Let us give more!”*
The Spirit shouts through Paul again:
“Make it your aim to go to them!”
To places where His name’s unknown,
*To build where none have built a stone.*
Oh William Carey, Ralph Winter too—
They saw this task and rallied through.
Shall we just read their tales in books,
*While turning from the unreached’s looks?*
Rise now, O global Church, arise!
Shake off your sleep, open your eyes!
God is moving, the time is near—
*The final tribes must also hear.*
He’s calling not just preachers bold,
But senders, givers, warriors old.
He wants the mobilizer’s cry,
*The intercessor’s daily sigh.*
He wants the technician’s hand,
The advocate to take a stand.
He’s calling trainers, shepherds, teams—
*To live and die for Frontier dreams.*
The FPGs are waiting long—
No church, no witness, no salvation song.
No Gospel seed, no Jesus told,
*No fellowship to break the hold.*
Yet half the missionaries we send,
Go where the Gospel does not need friends.
The rest go feed where sheep already graze—
*But none go into that darker maze.*
Why, Church? Why this tragic split?
Did Christ not call us out of it?
Did He not say: “All peoples reached”—
*Not just our comfort zones and streets?*
The hour is late, the King soon comes—
The trumpet waits, the angel drums.
But will the cry of FPGs
*Be silenced still by our strategies?*
Will He return with tears instead,
Because His bride refused what He said?
Because we prayed and played and taught,
*But never reached the lands He sought?*
O Church, repent. Return. Reclaim.
Renew your call. Rekindle flame.
The task remains. The map still burns.
*The King still waits. The Spirit yearns.*
*So GO, or SEND, or WEEP, or PRAY—*
But do not sleep another day.
This cry from Heaven shakes the land:
*“I have other sheep—extend your hand!”*
From Pakistan to Bengal’s streets,
Where Urdu, Hindi, Bengali meet—
To Pashtuns, Shaikhs, and Rajput clans,
*To Persians, Turks, and tribal lands.*
God waits for songs He hasn’t heard,
For tongues that never praised His Word.
Will you help fulfill His greatest joy—
*Or will His glory we destroy?*
Now Church—choose. Obey or stray.
The call is loud. The cost is grave.
The frontier waits. The King commands.
*Will you respond with pierced hands?*
if4es 