In my sadness yesterday; I noticed something that I knew was there, but never really saw it like I did yesterday, whilst walking back from the local shop..
I’m not sure if this is correct, or not, but I believe there’s a building in every village in England calling itself ‘the church’. We’ve got such a place. I don’t know if it’s only Anglican, or mixed with Catholicism, but what I know now is that it’s a dark place. No life in it. It’s locked six days out of seven. No lights are on; no one ever comes from there with a testimony they wish to share, there’s no salt. No light. The place is dead.
And it’s called a church?
I call it a travesty of justice. Where’s the stuff they did in the book of Acts? Where’s the leading of the Holy Spirit? Where’s the fellowship for the elderly and disabled? It ain’t there, folks. The place is dark and dead. Only coldness remains.
Two or three days ago, I met a stranger sitting by someone’s wall. He was in tears because his Mum had died. His Dad had called from the States to tell him, and the poor man was in bits. I’m so glad I was able to speak to him and at least give him a hug. He went to that place we call ‘church’ and found it locked. Not only that, but nobody knew how to get hold of the priest.
Cold, dark, no testimony.
Folks, if we’re the light, we’d better BE light.
Oh, and by the way, this is well worth a watch/listen…