The Invisible Church

I’ve recently started fast walking for exercise to coincide with cycling. Going up and down the long steep hills near my mom’s house has proven to be a great source of lung clearance.

Although I lived around these hills my entire childhood, I noticed something new recently. It’s not anything really to get excited about. Most people pass right on by without a single thought. It’s something very simple.  

A road sign.

This sign is not immoral. It’s not disturbing. It doesn’t affect most people. It’s just an announcement. The problem is what it’s announcing. This particular sign announces “Church Entrance” Why do they need a sign for this? How could this possibly be necessary? The problem is that this particular church is on a curve with a hidden entrance. Coming from a particular direction, you wouldn’t even know that there is a church around the curve.

It’s a hidden church.

This has powerfully impacted me the last couple of weeks. It’s blown my mind and caused me to pause and think. Isn’t the church to be the “light of the world, a town on a hill that can’t be hidden?” Isn’t the church to be known in the community? Isn’t she a candle in the darkness? Isn’t she supposed to impact communities in EVERY direction? Isn't she the very entity that the “gates of hell will not be able to prevail over?" The church has Jesus Christ himself as the chief cornerstone and we are built upon him. My goodness, it’s the focus of the God of this cosmos and we have audacity to hide it? Let’s shout it from the rooftops, let’s pound the pavement and go crazy announcing the place of purpose of God himself. This is an insane, bizarre, rock-awesome announcement not a boring proclamation.

I don’t like that sign anymore. I despise that sign now. It wreaks havoc on my theology. I want to take down that sign. Actually, I want to move the church. Now that’s an idea. How about we move the church so that it really does impact communities in every direction. Let’s take the invisible and make it visible. And then it struck me.

“Mark, I’m moving you. You are my church. You are to be my voice. YOU are the one that I don’t want to be invisible. You are to be the visible. You are a city on a hill. You are a candle in the darkness. I want to move YOU. To go. To represent.”

I’ve been given new marching orders. I don’t want to be an invisible representation of Christ. If I am invisible, my how the Kingdom suffers. “Lord, I’m here for you. Spirit, give me the words to speak. Give me a voice. I surrender to you.”

What if the church becomes immobile? What if we don’t become visible? What if the church becomes rigid? What if she loses her voice? What if we become invisible to the community? What if we don’t impact those who have lost hope? What if we have no answer for sadness, brokenness, loss, shame, and sin? What if we already have done all of that? Well, most likely this will happen….

See, this is that invisible church. Look real close. Do you see what I see? Notice the sign. No announcements. No pastor. No service times. Nothing. The grounds have been overrun with weeds and tall grass. The invisible church becomes another quiet entity. The invisible, immobile church becomes…a dead church. Lifeless. 

Stop and think on these things.